


You Must Love Me

by pink_mango



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Betrayal, Drama & Romance, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Prince Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-07 15:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 48,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21460450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pink_mango/pseuds/pink_mango
Summary: When Taeyong is whisked away from his beloved family and relatively simple life to serve his kingdom, he expected to be put to work cooking, cleaning, and obeying orders from every stuck up, wealthy member of the royal family.He didn't expect the crown prince to be so handsome - or cold.And he certainly didn't expect to learn of a more sinister plot befalling the kingdom while trying desperately to avoid said prince.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 101
Kudos: 293
Collections: Favorites





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic contribution for NCT, but I love them dearly. This will be based very loosely off several fairy tales and YA novels. I just really wanted some pure, fantasy Jaeyong. I promise Jaehyun will show up in the next chapter and there will be more to the plot than just these two dummies falling in love :)
> 
> I am self beta-ing this, so please feel free to provide any feedback in the comments!

“Taeyong! Brat! It’s your turn to help dad!”

“I’m busy preparing dinner for everyone! Could you _ please _ for once help out a bit?”

Doyoung peaks around the corner of the kitchen area where Taeyong is preparing dinner, rolls his eyes, and meanders into their small, shared room. 

“I’m tired. Had a long day.” He flops on top of a small, threadbare blanket on the ground, picking at a fraying spot on his cotton pants.

“Doing what?” Taeyong tries not to let irritation seep into his voice, poking at the cooking meat over the fire in front of him. “You didn’t do anything today besides lay around.”

Doyoung chooses not to answer. Taeyong takes that as a hint that his older brother isn’t planning to move from his spot, which leaves him to finish prepping dinner and help their father with his nighttime routine.

It’s not that he minds; he loves his father and brothers. But it’s hard to constantly be the dependable one, the reliable one, the one who is expected to take orders and do them, regardless of his own desires or happiness. And deep down, he’s a people pleaser who just hates saying no. 

It’s a simple life, being the middle son of a farmer in the outskirts of the kingdom of Corinthia in which they live, but not benefiting from. But for the most part, he’s okay. It’s just him, his two brothers, and their father against the harsh realities of life when you’re poor.

The eldest brother, Doyoung, would really be suited best for a life as a trust fund baby living in the innermost part of the city, enclosed in golden walls decorated with expensive paintings. He’s lazy and beautiful, with a sharp wit to him that Taeyong sometimes finds himself envious of. There’s such a softness to his older brother’s face, beautiful lines to his lanky body, and Doyoung certainly knows it. His beauty is paralleled only by his temper most of the time these days.

The youngest of the three, Mark, is so sweet, it pains Taeyong to think of how unfair it is that he grows up in their poor household and can’t enjoy the simple pleasures most 16 year olds engage in within their village, unburdened by financial woes. While not quite ethereal looking like Doyoung, he’s a nice looking young man that Taeyong is so sure will turn into a handsome young man in a couple of years.

And Taeyong, the middle son, doesn’t have much time to dwell on his looks or future. He’s too busy taking care of his family in the present. Sometimes he wonders though, what his life would be like if he were born into a different situation. Could he have been a devastatingly lovely boy too if only there were expendable income for frivolous things like fancy clothing and delicious smelling soaps? Could he have gone to an elite school and learned all sorts of things that are fun in theory, but never useful in practical life? 

Drifting from his thoughts and satisfied with the state of their dinner, which consisted of some sort of stew concoction, Taeyong softens when his eyes fall upon the man responsible for who he has become in reality, not some fantasy ideal version of himself he’s invented in his head. 

“Dad, it’s dinner time. Hungry?”

His father looks up at him, perking up and following his voice. He doesn’t reply, and Taeyong pads over to where his father is sitting, hooking his arm in the crook of the other’s. He guides him over to the table, and gingerly sets him down. 

Doyoung and Mark are already seated, helping themselves to a bowl each of the stew Taeyong prepared. 

They eat in silence, just the soft clinking of wooden cutlery echoing throughout the small living space.

Once finished, Mark helps Taeyong wash up and help their father into bed. He doesn’t dare ask his older brother to help wash dishes.

Taeyong slips an oversized cotton shirt over his head. He looks at himself in the lone mirror they own. 

_ Small, Skinny body. Soft brown hair. A scar under his eye that he’s always been self conscious of, though can’t remember life without. His complexion is not particularly great. _ He’s always felt so plain, especially in comparison to Doyoung.

He climbs onto his own cot, glancing over at Doyoung for just a moment. He knows how difficult it’s been for him since their mother passed, Doyoung having been so attached to her. He tries to understand his brother’s bad moods and behavior, but he misses how things used to be - misses his older brother who used to be so affectionate towards him.

Sometimes it’s difficult even looking at his father, and Taeyong oftentimes lays in bed at night, contemplating how unfair this world truly is. Two years ago, their mother passed away from an ongoing sickness. There hadn’t been any money to properly treat her, and without her help around the farm, it became a nasty cyclical effect of never being able to finish their chores on the farm. Never being able to sell enough to make ends meet. 

The death of their mother changed their once happy little family, and Taeyong believes when she died, his father did too in many ways. 

He thinks how weird it is, to be so preoccupied with growing up, instead of just enjoying the carefree magic that comes with being a young child. How he wished he could go back to those days instead of the harsh realities of adulthood.

It was not too long after that their father became blind, and suddenly their financial issues became even worse.

Before, they lived a pretty simple life, but comfortable. Now, Taeyong was just hungry and tired, and fearful for his one remaining parent all of the time. If something were to happen to him, what would he and his two brothers do?

Would they want to leave him? Would they forget him? Would he be alone?

* * *

“_ Taeyong! _” 

Oh. It’s him!

The brunette pauses from where he’s tending to the peony bushes in their garden, hands and knees filthy from the dirt. He wipes his hands off on the already soiled cotton pants and stands up, grateful for the sudden reprieve. Gardening is something he enjoys when he has some extra time outside of his daily chores, but it’s definitely hard work. 

His eyes immediately soften and a smile forms faintly at the corners of his mouth.

Taeyong fingers at the delicate necklace he’s wearing, hands already victim to muscle memory of its presence around his neck.

Johnny is a nice boy - normal boy, and he’s always been kind to Taeyong. 

And here he is, running towards him. Taeyong watches his long legs and thinks how painfully handsome Johnny’s become over the years to boot. _ Truly, too handsome for someone like me _, thinks Taeyong to himself. He quickly dismisses the thought once Johnny is standing right in front of him, tall body so inviting to just reach over and embrace- but he doesn’t. 

“Hi, Johnny. How are you?”

_ Act. Cool. _

“Good. Haven’t seen you lately?” It’s a question more so than a statement, but not accusatory. The taller pauses to scratch the back of his neck. “Missed you.” His voice sounds so genuine, and Taeyong beams. 

“Yeah. Missed you too.” The shorter of the two feels the tips of his ears burn under his hair, feeling stupid since it isn’t like he and Johnny haven’t spent a decent amount of time tumbling in the sheets together, fooling around for the past two years without it ever really going much farther than that.

Part of him is so, so terrified of being in love, having seen what heartbreak did to his father after the death of his mother. It’s a good thing in that case that Johnny doesn’t ever really appear to be interested in more than just fooling around for fun.

“Uh.. yeah so. I was wondering if you would like to spend tomorrow evening together? I have some free time, and I wanted to check out that new market stall in town that’s selling food they brought in from the city.” Johnny smiles openly. “And I know you simply can’t resist sweets. They definitely will have sweets. My treat obviously.”

Taeyong laughs nervously. “No. I can’t resist; you’re right. And I would love to spend time with you.”

“Great! I’ll come by tomorrow evening and we can head over together? You’ll be around?”

“Yes.”

Taeyong pauses before adding, “I can’t wait.”

“Me neither.” 

“Okay then! I’ll see you tomorrow. I have to go, but I’m glad I found you and got to ask you.”

“Me too. Truly!”

Johnny flashes him one last smile and turns away, heading back towards home. Taeyong feels like an idiot, but what harm can there be in being an idiot when someone makes you feel that good in their presence?

* * *

Taeyong decides it’s time to head back inside once the sky dims from pastel blue to bright orange. He pushes a lock of brown hair out of his sweaty face and enters, eyeing Doyoung, who is sitting on the floor, writing in a journal.

When the older brother hears Taeyong enter, he quickly snaps the journal shut and and turns around.

“I’m hungry. When are you making food?”

_ Sometimes _, Taeyong thinks, Doyoung is so ridiculous it’s unbelievable. A grown man who either is so averse to doing anything for himself, or just entirely incapable of doing so. Taeyong’s not really sure which of the two it is.

“You know,” Taeyong begins, “you could just as easily make something for yourself.” He shucks off his ratty boots and begins stripping off his dirtied shirt from his time working in the garden, heading towards their shared sleeping area.

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “Sure. But, I can’t do it as well as you, so what’s the point?”

Taeyong doesn’t bother responding. It’s easier to just ignore his brother when he’s in a mood - which these days, is pretty frequent.

All he really wants to do right now is wash up, crawl into bed feeling clean, and fantasize about how he’s going to spend tomorrow with Johnny. Does Johnny just want to spend some time together hanging around in the market square? Or does he want to spend time more _ intimately _ ? Taeyong isn’t sure which of the two _ he _ wants, but makes a mental note to ensure he looks presentable - preferably, with his favorite baby blue shirt that makes him feel soft and pretty.

Doyoung doesn’t give up that easily though and peaks around the corner of the room. “Tae, dad wants soup tonight.”

“Okay, okay. You’ve made your point” Taeyong grumbles with his back to his brother, and begins scrubbing at his face. “Can you just leave me alone for a minute to freshen up, and I’ll get started?”

Doyoung leaves him be, and Taeyong flops on the cot after he’s spent a satisfying amount of time cleaning his sweaty body. He just wants a minute to himself, free from dealing with his bitchy brother and free from worrying over any household responsibilities. He thumbs at the drawstring of his pants, and lets his hand travel over his bare lower stomach. His fingers trace the edges of a very visible hip bone, body hungry and worn out. 

The brunette closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in the damp air of the room. A few moments seemingly turn into minutes, before he forces himself up. 

“_ Just get through dinner, and you can sleep all you want tonight and tomorrow, no matter how much Doyoung complains about wanting breakfast _,” he mumbles to himself, slipping on a fresh, white linen shirt. 

A promise to himself he definitely intends to keep. 

When he walks out to the kitchen area, Mark and his father are sitting next to one another, discussing a potential job opportunity Mark has been working on, and Taeyong prays it will end up working because any additional income would be certainly welcome.

“Hey, Mark. Hey, Dad.” 

“Yong, you going to make dinner tonight?” Mark’s wide eyes look up at him.

“Yep. Heard dad wanted soup? That okay with you, Dad?” His father nods, small smile gracing the corners of his mouth. He turns back to Mark, while Taeyong begins getting to work.

Mark mouths a quick, “Thank you, Yong” before re-engaging in conversation with their father.

There’s a couple of potatoes that Taeyong estimates have about three days left to be eaten before they begin to rot, so he pulls them from the cupboard and places them on the wooden countertop, wiping each down with a wet rag.

He hums to himself a little. It’s a good thing he is not only _ good _ at cooking, but enjoys it too, for often he does it around here.

After cutting the potatoes up and dumping them into an iron pot, Taeyong add several other ingredients. As soon as he places it on the stove, their home begins to fill with delicious smells of butter and herbs cooking together. It makes his hungry stomach growl in anticipation.

As soon as he walks over to sit at the table next to Mark, planning to drift off and day dream a bit while waiting for the soup to cook, there are several loud knocks on their front door.

Each of the three brothers glance at one another in confusion at who could possibly be wanting something at this time of the night. Secretly, Taeyong hopes it’s Johnny, come to whisk him away for the night and make him feel good and kiss him all over. That’s always a _ really _ nice feeling. He feels stupid and needy, knowing it’s probably not Johnny.

After thirty seconds of nobody answering the door, the person on the other side begins pounding against the door much harder.

“_ OPEN THIS DOOR NOW, UNDER ORDER OF THE CORINTHIAN LAW. _”

Unless his voice and demeanor had drastically changed within the past few hours, that was absolutely not Johnny.

Taeyong was too scared to make a move, heart beating rapidly in his chest so hard he thought it might burst. What on earth could this possibly be about - it must be some kind of mistake? They didn’t have any money, but were certainly never criminals.

Never one to fear basically anyone, the eldest brother gets up and opens the door. Doyoung has a nasty look on his face in confusion, hissing, “What on _ earth _ are you talking -”

Taeyong watches in what feels like slow motion spilling into infinity as Doyoung’s lovely face is backhanded by a large man, his lanky body suddenly splayed out on the floor. The brunette winces as the cracking noise Doyoung’s face suffered from echoes throughout their home against mind numbing silence. Taeyong rushes to him, holding Doyoung’s face, now reddened with embarrassment.

“You.” the man points at their father. “You owe a great deal of money to the government of Corinthia.”

Mark shoots up, blocking his father from the man’s view. “Huh? Do you see where we live? Don’t think that can possibly be true!” Taeyong loves his little brother, but he really, _ really _ wished that Mark would learn to keep his mouth shut at completely inappropriate times.

The man laughs. 

“You only have this dump because of a loan from the government that has yet to have a single cent paid back towards it.”

Taeyong feels sick. That can’t possibly be true. 

He suddenly finds his voice that seemed to be so lost within his increasingly dry throat. “Sir, I’m sorry, but that has to be a misunderstanding. My parents have had this house for over twenty years.”

The man turns his attention towards Taeyong, who shrinks slightly at his imposing presence. “No. Your stupid father defaulted on the bank loan for the house years ago. He was given a second chance, but never paid anything back to creditors.”

Suddenly, the man is flanked by two additional men, all bearing the same royal seal on their chest plates. 

“You have three options,” he begins.

“One. He goes to prison until the rest of you can finish paying off the original loan plus interest”. The man juts his knife towards their father. The thought of that makes Taeyong feel sick - that absolutely would not be an option. He suddenly finds himself wondering what their likelihood of success would be were he and his brothers to try taking the other three men on.

Probability of zero, is what he comes up with.

“Two. You forfeit ownership of all items in your possession. Including this place. We reclaim the property altogether and liquidate it.” That was also out of the question, considering they would have nowhere to live.

“Three. One of you gives your life in service to the crown, living at court and doing what you’re told when needed. It’s your lucky day considering the king and queen have been down in staff for some time, and are willing to extend this option.”

None of the options were good. But really, option number three was the only one that Taeyong could fathom not leading to immediate doom of his father and brothers’ lives. He would sacrifice anything to keep them safe and under a roof. 

Without even consulting them, he perks up “I’ll go.”

Their captor nods. “Wise choice. If you do well and behave yourself, the crown may even deem you fit to visit your family after a few years.” _ Wow. What a generous offer! _, thinks Taeyong.

“A few years? How long exactly will it take for the debt to be repaid?”

“That’s not up to my discretion. That’s just the way it is. You’ll find out more details when you arrive.”

Taeyong shrinks. A few years - and that’s IF they deem him okay to travel home. How much longer would his already heartbroken father last? Long enough for him to get out of this? How sad it would be to miss the next several years watching Mark grow up. Watching Doyoung get his shit together and potentially start a family? He suddenly feels a strong sense of guilt, worried this could be the last straw for his father’s well being.

Doyoung deadpans, his face twisted in complete shock as he looks up at his younger brother from where he is still laying on the floor.

“Taeyongie... You cannot be serious.” There is an unusual softness to his older brother’s voice.

“What choice do we have?” Taeyong looks up at his older brother, willing himself to not cry. He’s such a crybaby. “He can’t go to prison - he will literally _ die! _” Taeyong motions to their father, looking small and limp in the corner of the room. He looks at him, for what could possibly be the last time and tries to memorize his face, with just a couple of mental edits to a happier time in their lives. Erases a couple of lines that have been etched in his skin with age and stress, adds back in a bit of spark to his eyes.

Mark pulls at Taeyong’s sleeve. “No, you can’t! What will happen to us? What will happen to _ you _?”

“I don’t care what happens to me.”

It’s true. He doesn’t.

Mark, now on the verge of tears, looks back and forth between his two older brothers. 

Taeyong sighs softly and looks back towards the three men blocking the door. He pulls Doyoung closely and whispers, “can you please tell Johnny that I’m sorry?” He lets out a small laugh, “and for the love of god, Doyoung, learn to cook for yourself.”

Doyoung nods against Taeyong’s shoulder “Yes, of course.” 

Taeyong knows his brother is aware of Johnny, just perhaps not to the extent his affection towards the man goes. But it will have to do, as he now understands that he will likely never see his lovely Johnny again in this lifetime. For the millionth time this week, Taeyong broods over how completely unfair life truly is.

“We’re taking you in then.” The man’s voice breaks the silence in the room, and Taeyong from his thoughts about Johnny. 

He knows if he lingers too long, he won’t be able to force himself to leave. He’s too freaked out at the moment to even contemplate what a life at the royal court could possibly be like. What kinds of awful, spoiled aristocrats’ bullshit he’s going to inevitably wind up entertaining at the sake of his own dignity.

“Okay. I’ll go. Can I just have a minute to take-”

“No. You don’t need to take anything. Everything you’d need will be provided to you upon arrival at court.”

He turns back to his family, tells them he loves them, and is whisked out the door. 


	2. Uno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me longer than I wanted to get the second chapter up - but here it is!

Taeyong is curled up in the corner of a small carriage, sitting as close as he can get his body to the window and away from his captor who sits next to him. He assumes the man must be sitting inside with him to keep an eye on him, but his presence is entirely uncomfortable and stifling. He can feel the man’s eyes on him, burning right through him, and he’s never felt so small or on edge in his entire life by another human.

He tries to focus on something, anything, but it’s not working. The interior of the carriage is giving him claustrophobia, red walls and cushions closing in on him from every angle of his body until he feels like he’s about to scream.

He’s screaming - he _thinks_ he’s screaming, but there’s no sound coming out and he’s unable to even stretch his legs or move. 

Gritting his teeth, Taeyong stews about all of the questions racing through his head. 

_ What was this guy’s name?  _

_ Why would he do this?  _

_ Did he take pleasure in hurting lowly peasants like him?  _

_ Was it fun?  _

_ How could he stomach working for people who would allow something like this when surely they had more than enough money to make up whatever his father’s loan was? _

He pushes his thoughts aside and just sits, silently furious. He would figure out a way to get out of this; he’d figure out a way to earn their favor and leave no matter the cost. He could put up with some bootlicking for as long as necessary to make it happen.

It takes almost an entire day to reach their destination, only stopping once for a quick bathroom break along the way. The man doesn’t give him his name, but he does offer two words by pushing Taeyong out of the carriage with the toe of his steel boot and grunting at him to “ _ hurry up _ ”.

Taeyong has about five seconds to contemplate making a run for it, before he realizes this guy is going to stand there and watch him piss. 

_ I’ve already lost enough of my dignity - may as well keep digging the hole deeper and deeper,  _ he thinks while turning his back and unzipping his pants.

Taeyong doesn’t spare him a glance, just makes his way quickly back to the entrance of the carriage once done and climbs back inside, ready to head towards his future home. He spares a glance out of the window, not recognizing where they are or how much further they have to go, never having ventured that far from home in his entire life. There isn’t much of anything to look at, and suddenly it hits Taeyong that even if he were to make a break for it, he'd have nowhere to go.

As they begin to move again, the outside scenery begins to blur and shift, Taeyong's brown hair falling against his eyes as he feels them begin to get heavier and heavier.

* * *

After what feels like mere seconds since he first felt his eyes drooping, Taeyong wakes abruptly with a sharp cramp in his leg. He whimpers and tries to stretch, but there isn’t much room between where he’s sitting and the wall in front of him.

He sneaks a quick glance over at the man in the carriage with him, worried his small outburst might earn him a scolding. Seeing that the other hasn’t even reacted, Taeyong pulls his leg into his chest as best as he possibly can and rubs it softly.

The small carriage seems suddenly brighter, crisper. Taeyong pauses the circular motions he’s making on his leg, and takes a peek outside the window once more. 

The sight he’s now met with is shocking to him, his breath catching in his throat and heart thumping against the confines of his chest loudly.

There is a massive estate sprawled across a beautiful, rich green lawn. Taeyong had never quite seen anything like it in comparison to his own home, which was much browner and smaller in comparison. His dark eyes widen, soaking in the scenery in front of him. Colorful flowers of which he had never seen before in his life spring up from everywhere; ivy snaking across the expanse of the entire castle made of white marble. The entire scene before him looked so unreal, it was hard to imagine actual humans live within those walls - that this would be normal for them. 

Taeyong thinks Doyoung would be much better suited for life here than him. 

He snaps out of his thoughts when his captor roughly pushes at his shoulder.

“ _ Get up _ .”

Taeyong rubs at his shoulder, and pushes the carriage door open gently. His legs feel wobbly and sore by the time that he steps out, having been sitting in the same, cramped position for what felt like ages.

“I’ll be taking you to your room. You’ll be given further instructions on what’s next there.” The man doesn’t even spare him a glance as he steps ahead of Taeyong, who follows him from behind. “Your family's fortunate timing has allowed you to stay here, so you should be thankful. You’re a lucky little peasant, getting to move in and live at the palace instead of just paying for what you owe like the rest of us,” he mutters. Taeyong chooses to ignore the comment; making this guy irritated was so not worth it unless he wanted to wind up with a backhand to the face like his brother had the previous night. Better to just get to his room and try very, _very_ hard to never run into him again.

They walk through a garden filled with more exotic flowers Taeyong doesn’t recognize, in colors he didn’t even realize flowers could be. Some of them are a shocking blue in color, standing taller than his own head and he decides those are his favorites. He makes a mental note to see if he could by some chance spend time out here or maybe figure out a way to get handed some garden work. Taeyong muses that interacting with plants seems a far more pleasant option than interacting with royalty.

At the end of the garden area, the two of them reach a set of tall white doors flanked on both sides by two men in the same gray uniform Taeyong’s grown accustomed to looking at. They throw a nod towards the man at Taeyong’s side, before opening up the doors in front of them.

If Taeyong thought the outside of the palace was beautiful, he was truly in for a surprise as soon as the inside of the space was revealed to him. The walls gleam in the same stark, white marble but littered with massive paintings that stretched upwards towards the ceiling like they were a million miles long, like some fantastical optical illusion. Taeyong looks down at the flooring beneath his feet, patterned rectangular shapes of red, gold, and black shining in contrast against his old and worn boots. The room they are in leads to a massive staircase, covered in a golden colored rug. The past thirty minutes alone have been unlike anything he’s ever experienced in his life.

“Don’t touch anything.” The man grips Taeyong’s arm and forcibly guides him through the hallway and past the staircase. 

Taeyong lets himself be pushed along, eyes darting around to take in every inch of the interior decor in front of him. It’s opulent and beautiful and so outrageous that it’s hard to even believe it’s all real. He passes by a statue twice his size of a woman wrapped in a delicate lace shawl, carved in breathtaking detail. It’s amazing how the stone manages to look soft and delicate, and Taeyong longs to reach out and let his fingers graze over the tiny grooves of white rock that look so much like real lace. 

After a few more minutes of walking and turning through corridors here and there, he’s ushered to what he assumes is his room and the door is slammed behind him without any further word. Taeyong takes a mental deep breath, finally rid of the awful brute.

He takes in his surroundings. The walls are the same white, just without any decor and made of plaster, and the floors are a polished wood instead of stone. He notes two beds in the room, covered in fluffy white fabric. Compared to the rest of what he’s seen, it’s sparse, but to Taeyong, it’s the nicest and cleanest bedroom he’s ever seen in his life.

Taeyong inches forward and lets his fingers drift over the soft bedding. It’s soft, so much softer than anything he is used to sleeping on back home.

He jumps when he hears the door creak open once more, panicking for a moment that perhaps he’s in the wrong room or someone has come looking for him to tell him this is all one huge joke, that he’s actually staying in a dungeon underground and is to be tortured each and every night.

“ _ Oh -  _ hello. You’re here,” a small voice echoes behind him. Taeyong shifts to the side and turns his head to face the owner of the voice. He’s met with the sight of a young man with a soft, kind face and light colored hair. Taeyong assumes they have to be similar in age to one another.

“My name is Sicheng. I live here too.” Sicheng pauses. “In this room - with you now.” 

Taeyong thinks that explains the two beds.

Taeyong, not having spoken since the previous night, lets himself croak out, “I’m Taeyong. Guess we are roommates?” His throat is sore and he’s suddenly realizing just how thirsty he is.

“I know, silly.” Sicheng brushes a lock of his blonde hair out of his eyes and steps closer towards the brunette. “I was told there’d be a new person. And… truthfully, I’m glad because it’s kind of weird being here alone.”

“Why is it weird?"

Sicheng pauses again, and glances around the room, appearing nervous. “Well, it’s just bizarre. Nothing you need to worry about, but a couple of servants have gone missing, and not servants who you’d expect. It’s not like they were bad at their jobs or anything, so yeah, it’s weird. Probably why they recruited you. What’s your story?” 

Sicheng must notice Taeyong’s frown before continuing, “and don’t tell me you don’t have one. Everyone who winds up serving the royal family has one.”

Taeyong hesitates, but feels like he can probably tell Sicheng. “My family owes money to the government, but instead of taking our house or throwing my father in jail, they offered me this position instead.”

Sicheng moves to sit on the bed on the right-hand side of the room, and Taeyong makes note that must mean he owns the one on the left now. “Sorry. That’s certainly not a good situation. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been here pretty much my entire life.”

“ _ How? _ ” Taeyong asks, his heart pounding a little. It couldn’t be that this guy had been here his whole life - and surely, they couldn’t expect him to be here forever either.

“I was orphaned as a kid, and the royal family took me in when I was about five years old. I honestly don’t remember much before that.”

“Wow, that’s harsh. I’m sorry, Sicheng.”

“It’s okay. You may pity me because you think I’m locked away here, but it’s not so bad. I have a roof over my head, I’m fed, I don’t have to worry about money, and I’m safe. It’s a lot better than a lot of people out there have it.” He makes a gesture towards the window in the center of the room.

Taeyong mulls it over. He has a point - but at the same time, was he really so safe if people were suddenly disappearing from the palace? Low ranking ones like them at that? And besides, for as little as he has back home, he's still happy - and_ free._ _Was free_.

Sicheng quickly changes the subject, sensing the tense mood in the room. “So. I figured I would show you some of the basics today. First of all, you’ll need to change into our standard uniform. There are spares in the dresser over there,” Sicheng points to a wooden chest pushed off to the side. “We have about six between us we can share, and will be responsible for washing and drying them when we run out. We look like we can probably wear the same size, so we can just share all of the uniforms in there.”

“Why don’t you get changed and meet me outside our room in the hallway? I’ll show you around.”

Taeyong nods and heads over to the dresser. He pulls out the same items Sicheng’s wearing, consisting of a beige tunic and pair of fitted, black cotton pants. There are small gold buttons adorning the pockets of the pants, and briefly Taeyong wonders how many of them he could smuggle on his way out of here and if anyone would even notice their absence. The brunette slips off his worn boots, and slides into a pair of black canvas shoes. It’s plain, but a serious upgrade from his hand-me-down clothes from Doyoung, which never fit him quite right and were scattered with holes that had been patched up one too many times.

Taeyong pads over to the door and opens it gently. He taps Sicheng gently on the shoulder. “Alright. I’m dressed. Show me around?”

Sicheng bares him the smallest smile and takes his arm, leading him down the corridor. “I’m gonna show you the areas we are and are not allowed in. And when I say  _ ‘are not’ _ allowed in, I mean it. Don’t go there.”

Taeyong shrugs and starts, “Sure, but like what’s in those areas that’s so important?”

Sicheng shushes him and mumbles, “be  _ quiet _ , idiot! You don’t look like a trouble maker, and I’d suggest you stay that way.” He clears his throat a bit, which Taeyong finds odd, considering nobody appears to be around. “Alright, so first area you’ll get to know really well is our dining area. We of course eat separately from nobility and we are only allowed to do so once everyone in the royal family has finished their meals.”

Taeyong tries not to laugh a little. It’s stupid, but it sounds just plain absurd hearing it out loud like that.

“Don’t tell me you have to wait for them to go to the bathroom before we’re allowed to do the same too?”

Sicheng shoves at his shoulder playfully. Taeyong thinks he may be a little brainwashed, but he seems like he’ll be a good person to hang around.

“Anyway, I’ll show you the kitchen next; it’s just a little farther down this hall.” He’s being led through another corridor, until they wind up back towards the main entrance, and in front of the same ornate staircase he remembered from earlier. Only this time, instead of the area being empty, there are now two men hanging around the bottom area of the staircase. One of them has red hair tied back in a knot, his back towards Taeyong and Sicheng, hand resting on the handrail. He’s wearing an outfit of emerald satin with the same types of gold buttons, albeit many more than his own simple pair of pants have. The other has dark black hair, dressed in a similar outfit of navy blue. He feels frozen to his spot, looking up at the two of them, never having seen other humans dressed like that or look so neat and clean. Both men appear to be deep in conversation about something, not having noticed either Taeyong or Sicheng.

Sicheng grabs his arm, “Avoid those two,” he whispers, and drags Taeyong through a side door and into what appears to be a kitchen.

“So here’s the main kitchen we use. I hope you like cooking - or at least, can cook well?” Sicheng acts like nothing just happened, and continues to point out several different doors and where they lead to as they continue to walk along together.

“Wait, Sicheng. Who were those two guys?” He looks at the other in curiosity and sighs, noticing that the blonde looked a little distressed. “...And yes, I can cook. I like it too.”

_ He seems so nervous about anything and everything _ , Taeyong thinks to himself.

Sicheng looks like he’s about to laugh when he responds, “Silly, that was Prince Jaehyun and Prince Yuta. You really didn’t recognize them?”

“No…” Taeyong wonders why the hell he’s supposed to know that. “I’ve lived in the country my entire life. How would I know what they look like?”

“Ah. Well. They’re both trouble, so stay away from them.”

Taeyong wants to press further about why exactly Prince Yuta and Prince Jaehyun are trouble, but he doesn’t. It seems fair enough though; he really has no intention of spending any time at all with nobility and assumes the feeling is mutual on their end. Instead, he lets Sicheng continue to show him around.

“So. We wake up each morning at around 5 and prepare breakfast, and from then…”

Taeyong continues to listen to the daily routine and rules Sicheng drones on about until it’s time for them to take a break and have something to eat. He’s starving, not having eaten since dinner the previous night. He sits at the main wooden table, Sicheng zipping around preparing a simple set of sandwiches with roasted chicken and sliced apples.

“Here you go.” Sicheng hands him a plate, and sits down next to him, quietly picking at his own sandwich.

“So do you do anything for fun around here or is that not allowed either?” Taeyong chokes out in between bites.

Sicheng pauses, picking at his sandwich. “I like to draw if I have some extra time. I guess.”

“Hmm..”

“What about you?”

Taeyong shrugs and finishes his last slice of apple. “I like -  _ liked _ \- to spend time in my family’s garden. I  _ liked  _ spending time with my friends.” More like -  _ one specific ‘friend’ _ , he thinks sullenly. He misses Johnny already, misses his warm smile and wonders if maybe Johnny misses him too at all.

“Well there are plenty of gardens here. I’m sure you could request some hours tending to the plants in some of the smaller gardens to start with.” Taeyong finds it interesting that Sicheng doesn’t add that there are plenty of friends hanging around too - just plants.

A few minutes of silence pass, before Taeyong can’t deal with the silence anymore. “So Sicheng, are you like - my boss?”

“No. Definitely not! We’re equals. We’re kind of like teammates don’t you think?”

“Yeah. That’s cool.” Taeyong gives him a small smile and finishes eating the remainder of his sandwich. He thinks to himself that things couldn’t be so terribly awful if he at least had a friend to get through the days with.

* * *

The first week passes uneventfully. Taeyong wakes up, helps prepare breakfast, is assigned various tasks and chores to complete throughout the day by some of the more senior and older servants, and climbs into bed like clockwork each evening, falling asleep under the soft blankets after chatting with Sicheng for a few minutes about their day.

The second week starts off much the same, until Sunday rolls around. From Taeyong’s understanding, Sunday is typically the day of the week that most of the royal family members spend at home, prepping for the week ahead to do whatever it is they actually do besides spend other people’s money.

It’s not like he’s seen much of them at all, outside of those few seconds he caught a glimpse of Jaehyun and Yuta, and he’s feeling content about the way things are going thus far. Sicheng had nagged him to at least learn a basic chart of who was who, their names, and relations to one another, but Taeyong couldn’t care less to bother with it.

It’s later that Sunday evening that one of the seniors passes along laundry duty to him, which unfortunately for Taeyong, is one of his least preferred chores. It’s not that it’s the worst thing to do, but he hates feeling pruny from the water and doesn’t necessarily like touching other people’s dirty underwear either.

Taeyong is scrubbing away at a white blouse covered in mud, when he hears a soft thud next to him. He glances over his shoulder, spotting an enormous new pile of clothes covered in dirt and grime next to a pair of shiny shoes. 

“Hello, new boy.”

Taeyong follows the sound of the voice, eyes traveling upwards and coming into direct eye contact with who he assumes must be the same redheaded prince from last week. Taeyong freezes, because he cannot for the life of him remember which one is Jaehyun and which one is Yuta, and to top it off, he only saw this guy from the back last time.

_ Maybe Sicheng had a point to at least learn their names and what they look like. _

The redhead’s lips curl up into a playful smile. “You’re not going to say hello back? How very rude of you!”

Taeyong can feel his mouth begin to move, but can’t seem to formulate any words. He just continues to stare, wordlessly, up at the man standing over him. He looks clean and handsome and expensive in a way that Taeyong doesn’t even understand, but that’s just the way he  _ looks _ .

“It’s fine I suppose. But I want everything  _ extra  _ clean. And if you don’t do it right, I’ll be forced to make you do it again! Understood?”

Taeyong nods.

“And-”

“Yuta! What are you doing down here? I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Another voice echoes throughout the room, and suddenly Taeyong is now on the floor, feeling like a wet rat and looking at the two princes’ feet.

At least now he can deduce that the redhead is Yuta and the other one is Jaehyun.

“Just having some fun. I have a lot of stuff that needs scrubbing, and the new kid’s gonna do it for me. Isn’t that right?” The playful smile is back again as Yuta bends slightly forward into Taeyong’s space.

Taeyong silently nods again.

“Lovely! What’s your name by the way?”

“Yuta -  _ please _ . You don’t need to be making friends with servants.”

“But they are so much fun to play with!” Taeyong feels the toe of Yuta’s shoe push his shoulder gently. “And this new one looks especially fun, don’t you think?!”

He sucks in a breath as he looks between the two princes, Yuta’s mischievous grin contrasting with Jaehyun’s sour frown. Jaehyun, he notes, looks every bit as clean, handsome, and expensive as Yuta - only moodier.

“No, he doesn’t look fun at all. He looks dirty, pathetic, and plain. Servants are not toys for you to fool around with, so stop messing around down here when we have planning to do for Midsummer.” His tone is biting and sharp, and nothing about it carries any sort of playfulness Yuta’s given him.

_ Ouch. _

The insult stings Taeyong, having always been insecure about his looks - especially having grown up around Doyoung’s lovely face. Jaehyun for his part, doesn’t seem to notice or care, probably used to freely doling out the insults to people like him.

Yuta huffs a little at that. “Jaehyun, really. You can be such a fun ruiner.”

“And you can be such an idiot - come on, let’s go!” Irritation begins to seep into Jaehyun’s voice. “My shoes are going to get ruined down here.”

“Oh god - not the shoes. Not like you can’t afford a new pair!”

Taeyong wants so badly to laugh a little at that, but doesn’t dare allow himself to. Instead, his body ultimately betrays him in another way by letting out a loud hiccup that sounds like a dying frog. He clasps his hand over his mouth quickly, sure that his face is the color of the red flooring in the entryway by now.

Jaehyun turns one last time to look at him, and lets out a mean spirited laugh. 

Taeyong has never felt so small or mortified in his entire life, and thinks that Jaehyun was indeed right when he called him pathetic.

Yuta just looks at him quizzically while ignoring Jaehyun, “You didn’t answer my question by the way. What’s your name?”

Taeyong waits a moment so he can be sure he won’t hiccup again in their presence. “Taeyong. My name is Taeyong.” He’s feeling very, very embarrassed, and then guilty for even caring about what either of these guys think of him.

Before Yuta has a chance to say anything else, Jaehyun’s voice booms throughout the room, “Yuta, what did I tell you? Now let’s go!”

Taeyong doesn’t even look up from his position as the two finally leave. 

He lets out another hiccup as soon as he’s sure they’re both gone.

* * *

Taeyong, emotionally spent from what happened earlier and feeling gross from the sheer amount of laundry he’s had to endure, dives straight into his bed face first. He thanks whatever higher power exists that Sicheng isn’t in the room, so he can decompress for a moment alone. He doesn’t get long though, before he hears the door creaking open, and rolls over onto his back, eyes staring at nothing at all on the ceiling while his mind filters through every embarrassing moment of his existence to date.

“So how was your day?” Sicheng innocently asks him like he always does, and Taeyong fights back the urge to let out a groan.

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Aw. But I do!” Sicheng stops teasing and gives him a more sympathetic look once he realizes Taeyong isn’t playing back with him. “If it would make you feel better, I can tell you about some pretty embarrassing things I’ve done on the job.”

“Who said I was embarrassed?”

“Nobody, but your face says it all. You’re really easy to read, you know.”

Taeyong rolls over to face Sicheng directly. “You know how you said to avoid Prince Jaehyun and Prince Yuta?”

“Oh no.” Sicheng recoils a little at that.

“Oh yes. They’re awful! But especially Prince Jaehyun! How can you stand living in the same space as someone like that?”

Sicheng hums to himself, before answering. “He wasn’t always awful. He used to be nice! He’s only gotten bad within the past couple of years really.”

“Sure. Doubt it.” And really, Taeyong does doubt it, considering how badly Sicheng tends to display attributes of a victim of Stockholm syndrome.

“It’s true! We’re the same age and when we were younger, he was much nicer. We even actually used to be  _ friends _ .”

“You sure about that, Sicheng? I get the vibe he doesn’t exactly play nice with commoners like us.”

“I said he  _ used  _ to be nice. You’re right - he’s awful now. But he has his reasons.”

“Can’t imagine what those are. What does he have to be mad about? He won the lottery when he was born. He’s never known anything other than this? It’s really unimaginable to me that he could be unhappy about anything.” Taeyong grabs a pillow and puts it over his face, the soft fabric feeling nice against his skin, still feeling like he's on fire from earlier. How  _ dare _ Prince Jaehyun talk to him like that! He might not have his money or title, but he was still a human being, and all he’s trying to do is _ help _ him and his family, just by being employed here.

“Yeah, he’s rich. But that evidently doesn’t make him happy. He’s gone through some stuff,” Taeyong peeks out from under the pillow at that and gives Sicheng a doubtful look. “His dad, the _ king _ , is never around you’ll soon notice. And his mother - has been ill for years. Nobody knows what’s wrong with her, and she just lays in bed - doesn’t even talk. An educated guess tells me Prince Jaehyun suffers from nothing more than pure loneliness.”

“My mother died a few years ago, and it didn’t make me into a complete dick. And besides, doesn’t he have Yuta?”

“Fair enough.” Sicheng walks over to the dresser and pulls out a fresh set of clothes. “And yes, he has Yuta, but that’s the only person he has.” Sensing Taeyong’s irritation with the conversation, he quickly adds, “I’m not defending his behavior. And you don’t have to tell me what happened with the two of them, I’m just giving you some castle gossip.” He winks at Taeyong at that last line.

“I’m going to change and head to bed. You can stay up as late as you want, but just remember we must be awake by 5AM to start the day tomorrow.”

Taeyong nods, watching the other boy slip on a clean, white shirt. He feels so gross from earlier, a combination of scrubbing dirty clothes and the insults he’s suffered at the hands of the two castle princes, but doesn’t even have the energy to get up and change clothes. He’s exhausted mentally, emotionally, and physically, and wonders what his chances of escape are if he tries to book it out of their bedroom window so he never has to come into contact with either of them ever again, for the rest of his ‘pathetic’ existence.

“Hey, Taeyong?”

“ _ What? _ ” It comes out a little harsher than he intended, and Taeyong immediately regrets his tone as soon as he sees Sicheng’s face soften.

“I’m sorry about your mother. And I’m sorry you had to wind up here to help your family back home. I’m not sorry for me though, because selfishly I’m glad to be sharing a room with someone my own age. We’ll be spending a lot of time together, so I really hope we can become friends.”

“Thanks. Me too.” And Taeyong means it - having a friend is the only way he sees himself enduring living here.

Sicheng wishes him a good night, and dips under the covers of his bed. Taeyong rolls over once more to face the wall, willing his mind to shut off and drift to sleep as soon as humanly possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the comments / kudos on part 1. it is very much appreciated!


	3. Duo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taeyong doesn't want to spend time with Prince Yuta, attached at the hip, but what say does he have in the matter?

Taeyong’s managed to figure out a daily routine that allows him to go about his day quickly, quietly, and manage to not run into either Yuta or Jaehyun since the laundry incident three days ago. 

He’s realized that the two of them spend most of their time in their respective rooms when home, which doesn’t appear to be often anyway. He’s figured out an entire system, very scientifically he thinks, about how and when to avoid certain areas and ultimately, a run-in with either of the two men. Taeyong's already fragile ego has been shaken too many times since he first got here, and he doesn't intend to get himself into anymore embarrassing situations. This task seems especially daunting to the brunette, considering there’s realistically no endpoint in sight for the time he has to spend living this nightmare.

He’s in the middle of putting away a stack of newly washed dishes and silverware, when one of the senior servants, Irene, pops her head into the kitchen and smiles at him. 

“Just the person I was looking for!” her cheerful voice calls out.

Taeyong likes her more than a lot of the other seniors, since she’s nice and usually passes him leftover sweets whenever she’s on baking duty. But mostly, she spends a lot of time running back and forth in the castle, tending personally to Princess Sooyoung, and Taeyong is grateful that someone besides him has that responsibility.

Taeyong looks around out of instinct, though he knows she means him. “Oh, hello, Irene. Do you need help with something?”

“No actually. But I do need to talk to you about something very exciting!”

Taeyong places the last silver fork into its respective spot and turns back to face her, a pit in his stomach telling him that 'exciting' tends to be a word with loaded meaning. “Sure. What’s up?”

Irene waltz closer, gathering Taeyong’s hands in hers. “Prince Yuta would like you to tend to him for a bit. He usually has Jaemin, but he’s been ill since yesterday, and you know how nobility is totally incapable of doing anything on their own.” Irene gives him a wink at that.

A door slams nearby, and Taeyong flinches, not really knowing if it’s from the sudden, loud noise, or if it’s because of the ‘exciting’ news Irene’s just told him.

“Jeeze, you’re jumpy today huh?” Irene cocks her head and looks at Taeyong questioningly. 

“I’m just a little surprised is all. Why does he want me?”

“I don’t know. Truthfully, I didn’t even realize he knew who you were. He must like you then! And trust me, it is always good to have allies here. Even better if it’s someone like him.” Taeyong’s hands feel limp in hers as she jostles them a bit, encouraging him to continue the line of conversation.

With that, Taeyong decides he actually does not like Irene so much anymore. '_If she really expects him to play errand boy to Yuta, she’s out of her mind_,' he muses. While Yuta doesn’t appear to be as scary or intimidating as Jaehyun, he is still very, very, very much scary. 

Taeyong brushes past her, heading towards one of the back patios, suddenly in need of a break from the monotony of dishes. “Irene, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he mutters, feet pounding on the hardwood floors. “Shouldn’t someone who’s been here longer do it?”

She rushes after him, “It’ll be fine - I promise. He asked for you, so you can’t really say no anyway.” When she catches up to him, both standing right in front of the door leading to the outside area, she places a reassuring hand on the brunette man’s shoulder. “They aren’t so scary, you know... anyway, you should head to his room and go see him as soon as you can.”

Taeyong nods, not looking at her, and makes his way out to the patio, thinking that some fresh air is definitely much needed in order to clear his mind.

* * *

As soon as he’d taken about ten minutes to mentally scream outside, Taeyong had run back in and found Sicheng so he could vent and word vomit the entire situation he’s now found himself in with Yuta.

“I can’t do this!”

“I don’t know if you realize this, but you don’t have a choice in the matter,” Sicheng gives him one of his  _ looks _ . The look Taeyong classifies as ‘you really just need to shut up and deal with it’ look that the blonde gives him on average twice a day, depending on his mood and whether or not Taeyong helps him sneak an extra helping of dinner back to their room.

The brunette huffs at the response, obviously not the one he was hoping to hear. He just continues to pace around the empty kitchen area, kicking at some loose crumbs on the floor that made their way down from breakfast earlier. 

“What exactly happened between you and those guys anyway? You must have made quite an impression on him to personally ask for you!” Sicheng gives him cocked eyebrow, cooing “maybe he has a  _ crush _ on you.”

“Nothing. Nothing happened! I embarrassed myself is all! And he  _ definitely _ does not have a crush on me.” The thought of that in particular makes Taeyong want to throw up.

Sicheng hands him a broom and points at the floor to get to work sweeping, looking irritated at the crumbs Taeyong is still shuffling around with the toe of his shoe. “I actually think i would rather deal with Jaehyun than Yuta,” he hums. He chuckles a little when he notices Taeyong’s eyes widen at that statement. 

“Really?”

“Yes,” he pauses to wipe a bead of sweat running down the side of his face. “With Jaehyun, you know what you’re going to get. No surprises. Yuta…,” Sicheng taps his chin. “Yuta is a lot less predictable though. You can’t trust him, so don’t do anything stupid around him or give him a reason to mess with you.”

“Great...”

“He's just a little mischievous is all.”

Taeyong sighs, and thinks fondly of Mark, who he would also typically classify as ‘mischievous’, though something tells him that Yuta’s version of mischievous is a bit different, and a whole lot crueler in the end if first impressions are anything to go by.

“Anyway, I guess I have to go find him now. Where is his room?”

“Upstairs - third floor. Take a right, then a left and it’s the second door down that hallway. Good luck!”

Taeyong hands the broom back to Sicheng and makes his way upstairs, heart thumping in his chest. His shoes suddenly feel too big for his feet, and it’s almost as if the floor has turned into quicksand. He feels like he hasn’t breathed as soon as he finds himself standing in front of Yuta’s door.

It’s stupid; he feels so stupid for letting these guys make him feel like this. 

As part of his recent coping mechanism, he’s been imagining Doyoung’s reactions to being placed in his shoes. He believes for this particular scenario, Doyoung would either completely ignore Yuta, and go back to his room to take a nap -  _ or _ \- march up to Yuta’s room, tell him swiftly to ‘fuck off, man’, and then go back to his room to take a nap. Either way, much napping would be involved, and Taeyong wishes he had his brother’s iron will to do as little work as possible at all times, regardless of potential consequences.

Taeyong mentally wills his heart to stop hammering, takes a deep breath, and knocks on the door. After a few seconds of silence, he hears someone shuffling around on the other side. 

As soon as the door opens, he’s face to face with Prince Jaehyun, who is definitely not Prince Yuta.

“Uh-”

“What are you doing here?” When Taeyong doesn’t respond, Jaehyun pushes his hair back from his eyes, looking him up and down in a way that makes Taeyong feel as if he were a bug under a microscope. “Do you need something?” Jaehyun asks cooly, looking him directly in the eyes, and Taeyong shrinks a little under the intensity of it all. 

Scratch that, he feels more like an ant under a magnifying glass, ready to be roasted alive. Jaehyun seems like just the type of mellow sadist to take pleasure in something like that.

He blinks, and collects himself before responding, “Is this not Yuta’s room? I’m supposed to find him.” Taeyong tries to peer around Jaehyun’s larger frame, but there’s no Yuta in sight.

Jaehyun’s serious face suddenly forms a look of understanding. “Oh.” He rubs his temple, and then pulls the door completely ajar, motioning for Taeyong to enter. “This is his room; I’m just waiting for him. You can come in.” 

Taeyong slowly walks into the room with Jaehyun, not sure if he should sit - or if the man will tell him not to touch anything with his dirty little peasant hands.

Jaehyun turns his back and begins coughing, the sounds echoing off the walls loudly. 

Taeyong internally debates on saying anything, but when the coughing doesn’t stop, he softly asks, “are you alright?” It’s not like he cares one way or the other if Jaehyun’s alright, or if he’s about to choke to death on his own spit, but it seems like the appropriate thing to ask at the time.

“Fine.” Jaehyun straightens up and manages to stop coughing. “He should be back soon,” Jaehyun states, pulling on the collar of his shirt. The raven haired man sinks down into a rust colored velvet chair seated next to the bed and crosses his legs, looking at Taeyong quizzically. “Who are you again- I don’t think I’ve seen you around?”

_ He doesn’t even remember me! _

Taeyong’s not sure if he should be offended or relieved at the question.

“Uhm, I’m Taeyong. Yuta asked me to tend to him while Jaemin is sick?”

“Oh. I suppose that makes sense.” Taeyong notices the other man looking suddenly paler, almost clammy, a few drops of sweat running down the side of his face while his fingers dig into the armrests of the chair. ‘ _ Evil jerks one hundred percent deserve to catch colds _ ’, he silently muses, pleased at watching Jaehyun look miserable. 

The silence that follows is a little uncomfortable, but Taeyong muses that it beats making small talk with the wicked prince.

Jaehyun clears his throat again, adding “Yuta does enjoy playing with newly minted servants-”

“Excuse me?” Taeyong snaps back, eyes darkening. Jaehyun may technically be his employer, but he’s fast approaching his limit of snark tolerance when it comes to the guy.

Jaehyun gives him a smirk, before Taeyong senses the presence of someone behind him, realizing that Yuta has joined the two of them. He can smell the cologne on the other man, the scent rich and masculine, and altogether delicious.

“Jaehyun, I do thank you for babysitting my new pet, but your services are no longer needed.” He places both hands on Taeyong’s shoulders from behind. “Thank you for your hard work as always! You do work  _ so _ hard each and every day, but you may leave now.” Taeyong twists within his grip to get a look at Yuta’s face, the expression he’s giving Jaehyun somewhat unreadable with a hint of meanness. Yuta in turn shifts to look into his eyes, the same mysterious glint in his eyes present and zooming straight through his own skull.

Jaehyun huffs, “It was my  _ pleasure _ , to watch over your new toy, Yuta, truly. However, we have things we need to discuss-”

“Not now. I’m busy!” Yuta shakes Taeyong’s shoulders, the grip a little too tight for his comfort. “Taeyong and I have a very packed agenda, which does not include you, I might add.”

“I’m sure. Once you’re done with the items on your  _ agenda _ , I need to talk to you.” Jaehyun shakily lifts himself out of the chair, and adds sternly, “the sooner, the better.”

Yuta brushes him off and nods his head towards the door. “Yeah, yeah. Of course.”

As soon as Jaehyun leaves, Yuta drags him over to the same chair Jaehyun was sitting in a moment ago and shoves him down into it roughly.

“Here’s how this is going to go.” Taeyong groans a little at that, rubbing at his shoulders, sure that Yuta’s fingernails have left marks on him by now. “One, I need you to come shopping with me today. Two, I need you to pick out something to wear for the Midsummer party, and three, you need to look good in it because I’m not bringing you if you’re going to show up ugly.”

Yuta laughs when Taeyong doesn’t say anything back. “Don’t fret, I’m not personally concerned that you’ll show up looking ugly; that’s why I picked you after all!”

“Picked me?”

“Yes, you,” Yuta makes a fist gesture and softly knocks on the top of his head. “You’re kind of stupid, huh? I’m picking you to help me out here and go to this party with me.”

Taeyong groans a little at the word stupid and hesitantly asks the other man, “Do you always have one of your employees accompany you, or is this a special occasion?”

“No, not usually. But, I’m running out of partners from years past, and you look like you’ll be responsible- which you will find, I am very much the opposite of. For this reason, I think you will be most suitable to come with me.”

Yuta begins pacing around the room, seemingly looking for something he’s misplaced. The room had been impeccably tidy, and is growing messier by the second as Yuta begins rummaging through drawers and throwing things to the side, clearly not having success in finding what he’s looking for. Taeyong watches him with curiosity, wondering if he’ll be the one required to clean and reorganize everything later for the other man.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk to Jaehyun about what he wants with you? I can wait.”

“Jaehyun, god. Dumbass.” Yuta calls, back turned to Taeyong as he continues to fling individual pieces of clothing from his closet onto the floor. “Him, I mean - not you. He may want to wait, and you may not mind, but I do mind. I have more important things to do right now than entertain his insecurities and paranoia.”

“Paranoia? What’s he paranoid about?” The insecure part doesn’t shock Taeyong too much. He assumes that anyone who is that big of a dick outwardly must have issues bubbling under the surface, but whatever they are, he has zero desire to know. The last thing on  _ Taeyong’s  _ agenda for the day was to psychoanalyze Prince Jaehyun.

Yuta pauses his fidgeting for a moment, back still turned, and voice growing a little deeper - more serious. “Nothing you need to know about. Jaehyun is just a complete freak, if you haven’t already noticed.” He snaps back, voice chipper again, “I very much hope that you are a fan of the color purple by the way.” Taeyong wonders if it should disturb him how Yuta’s personality seems to constantly oscillate between playful and terrifying, the line between the two delicate and subtle most of the time.

“Is he going to the party too?” Taeyong, now feeling a little more daring if Yuta’s openly and willingly ready to talk shit about the other prince in front of him. “Oh yes,” he quickly adds, “purple is fine.”

“Of course he’s going, not like he has a choice. I’m sure the asshole would prefer to hole up in his room and spend the night reading or studying or jacking off to nonfiction textbooks, whatever it is he spends all of his time doing in there these days.”

“I didn’t realize he spent a lot of time in his room like that.”

“Yeah, the older he gets, the more reclusive he gets. Irritating for me, because I don’t care for any of those things. Well, besides jacking off. That’s definitely something I do indeed care about. But not to books.” Yuta finally turns around, eyes sparkling, an object Taeyong can't see clenched in his left fist.

“Alright. Let’s blow this joint!”

Anxiety begins gnawing at his insides, threatening to spill out of each and every one of his pores at Yuta’s words. Spending an entire day alone with the prince seems exhausting. At best, he’ll need to just play along with the man’s antics - at worst, he’ll have to be the punch line of those antics. 

Taeyong brushes at his bands that are falling in his eyes, softly replying, “okay, let’s go then.”

* * *

It’s been several hours since Yuta has dragged Taeyong out of the castle and into an extraordinarily fancy clothing shop. The brunette is one hundred percent certain that if Doyoung were here, he would shit himself and die at the endless amount of velvet suit jackets, delicate jewelry, and colorful accessories.

Originally, he started out the trip determined to make the barest minimum of effort to engage in any of Yuta’s nonsense, but his plan was starting to crack little by little as the redhead had been increasingly  _ nice _ to him. On the trip into town, Yuta had babbled incessantly at him, asking him all sorts of mundane questions like -

_ What is your favorite thing to eat? _

_ Do you prefer the morning or nighttime sky? _

_ Do you dream every night? Do you get nightmares? _

_ What is your favorite childhood memory? _

_ Tell me about your family. _

_ Are you a cat person or a dog person? _

“I_t’s a trap_,” Taeyong thinks to himself, remembering Sicheng’s words from earlier. “_Definitely a trap._ _No way is he just being friendly or going to buy you anything out of here without some sort of ulterior motive_.” If the comment the ginger prince made earlier about Taeyong accompanying him to the Midsummer party was true, he could only anticipate playing the object of some sort of prank between the two princes. Taeyong isn't even sure what a Midsummer party is, or what it entails, but it seems to be a big deal around here because he’s heard the name dropped over and over from various other servants.

Yuta’s busy chatting with one of the store employees, when Taeyong finds himself very much alone, surrounded by rows and rows of beautiful clothes. He’s always secretly imagined being able to wear pretty things - and if money weren’t such a terrible, but ultimately unavoidable construct in the world, he would love nothing more than to wear silky, luxurious clothes in pastel colors that would make him feel soft and pretty.

A sliver of peach catches his eye, and he finds himself drawn to the fabric, running his fingertips over the sleeve, delighting in the sleek touch. 

“You should try this one on!” Yuta’s booming voice booms through the store, and straight through his ears, the man handing him a purple velvet vest. “You should look nice - not as nice as me, but I want you to of course stand out if I’m bringing you along to this.”

Yuta throws him a lighter purple silk shirt to compliment it with, along with a pair of form fitting blank pants.

Taeyong, noticing that everyone in the store is now looking at him questioningly, does his best to ignore the stares and peeks over the pile of clothing he’s carrying in his arms at Yuta. A part of him just knows these people are curious about who he is, why he’s with someone like Yuta, when he looks and is dressed like a nobody. He can practically feel the judgement oozing from them, clinging and tugging at every thread of insecurity he has.

_ ‘Just ignore them; their opinion is unimportant.’ _

The prince pokes at his chest lightly. “Go on, try them on. I want to see what those will look like on you.” Yuta flashes him a smile that Taeyong can’t quite tell if it is in genuine kindness or something a little creepy, but he nevertheless heads behind one of the fitting area curtains and carefully begins to undress and redress into the purple ensemble. 

He peels back the curtain from where he’s standing, peeking around the corner, but not ready to step out and have Yuta assess him just yet. 

Before he can even begin to debate on just turning around and changing back into his regular clothes, Yuta grabs the curtain and rips it back, revealing him to everyone in the store. Taeyong yelps, and Yuta lets out a “Wowwwww,” eyes darting over Taeyong’s form. “You look really nice like that.”

A blush begins to form on Taeyong’s cheeks as Yuta motions him to spin around, holding his hand and guiding him in front of a mirror. 

“I knew you were a pretty one underneath the dirt, but you sure do clean up even nicer than I thought you would.”

Taeyong looks at his reflection in the mirror, Yuta holding him at the waist from behind. He isn’t even sure of who is looking back at him - could clothing really even make such a difference in one’s appearance like that? Or is he just an imposter- a little peasant playing dress up, the magic a ticking time bomb, threatening to disappear the second he changes back into his usual state of dress.

“You just need a couple of finishing touches, but never fear, I’ll make sure you look extra nice just in time for Midsummer. There’s something of Jaehyun’s I’m going to borrow for you as soon as we get home.”

“I don’t think your brother would appreciate that very much,” Taeyong whispers softly, face still mesmerized by his own reflection in the mirror.

“Nonsense-,” Yuta turns Taeyong around to look him in the eyes, before bursting out into laughter. He’s loud in an otherwise quiet room, and the echoes of his laughter make Taeyong nervous about why he found the question funny. “My brother? Oh my god you can’t be serious.”

“He’s not your brother?” Taeyong is taken back by the revelation, but he’s been the one making that assumption all along he supposes.

“I can promise you he is absolutely  _ not  _ my brother. For one, we look nothing alike. And two, I’m offended you’d even think that when I am about a thousand times more handsome than that rat.”

“Then why are you here?” Taeyong asks before he even realizes how rude that came across, the all too familiar feeling of embarrassment crawling up his spine.

“Don’t you know anything at all? You have to be the dumbest new kid of them all or maybe just the most naive? Jaehyun’s brother - that’s a good one!” Yuta lets go of him and lets out another chuckle, continuing to be amused at Taeyong’s misunderstanding. “No, we aren’t brothers or even related at all. I’ve just been living here with his family for the past ten years, so I guess we come across as brotherly. Anyway, why don’t you change back and I’ll just get these for you now?”

After Taeyong finishes changing back into his usual attire, Yuta pulls each of the pieces of clothing back from him. While Taeyong is mulling over the loss of the newest addition to his basically nonexistent wardrobe from his body, Yuta swoops over to grab the peach shirt Taeyong had been eyeing earlier. “You wanted this too, right? I saw you looking at it.”

The word ‘no’ is on the tip of his tongue, before Taeyong decides against the rebuttal and gives the other man a nod. Why not let this guy buy him another shirt? After all, it’s the least he could do if Taeyong’s being forced to personally attend to him. It’s not as if Yuta can’t afford it or probably even cares about money at all. And besides, who cares if Taeyong never gets the opportunity to even wear the shirt due to the uniform rule - it’s the principle of the matter.

Taeyong stands idly at Yuta’s side, while the other man buys his new clothing, slipping the receipt with the total price into Taeyong’s pocket once finished, in what Taeyong assumes is some bizarre power move.

“You’re not getting anything for yourself?”

“I just needed to pick mine up, didn’t need to scope out something new.” 

Yuta gestures for Taeyong to clamber into the carriage first, before slamming the door shut tightly behind once the two are settled. 

“Did you have fun?”

“Was I supposed to?”

“Yes of course you were! I would never ever intend for you to have a dull moment with me.”

“Okay, sure. Then I had fun.”

They fall into silence for a few minutes as the carriage makes its way back towards the castle. Taeyong, now extremely curious, wants desperately to broach the topic of why Yuta’s living with Jaehyun’s family if they’re unrelated. He mulls it over for a few more minutes, clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides.

Maybe because Yuta has been nice to him today, he’s feeling bold, and gives into his desire to ask the other man more about their previous conversation.

“So why are you staying with Jaehyun’s family if you’re not related to them?” Taeyong pauses, before deciding to be even more daring. “You’re still a prince, right?” 

“Oh baby, you’d better believe I’m a prince.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“So what happened to make you come here? Do you ever go home? Are you here all the time? Do you just stay here during the summer-”

Yuta cuts him off with a sharp look and narrowed eyes. “I’m here all the time now. I’m sure you would find the reason... unsavory.”

Taeyong decides not to push the other any further. He shifts back into the cushioning and wills the carriage to move faster so he could get out of the enclosed space and get some air. The word ‘unsavory’ could mean a host of things, but something about the way Yuta had said it, emphasized it, was bothering him as Taeyong’s mind began to flit through an endless list of possibilities as to what Yuta’s backstory could be.

It isn’t his business and he tries to convince himself he doesn’t care, that it’s simple curiosity on his part and that it’s normal to wonder about. Deep down though, he knows he’s starting to care a tiny little bit about the bizarre and mysterious princes he’s found himself entangled with twice in his first week of work.

He’s in-between imagining Yuta’s parents kicking him out for being rebellious and weird and Yuta having power hungry siblings, clamoring for the top spot in line for the throne, when he feels a light tapping on his thigh. He twists and sees Yuta holding out a deck of cards, his usual mischievous glint now back in his eyes. He assumes this must have been the object Yuta had been hunting earlier in his room.

“Play with me!”

Taeyong sighs and takes the deck of cards, shuffling them over and over, until Yuta is satisfied with his work. They play seven rounds of rummy before they’re pulling back up at the castle and the redhead is grabbing for the cards back, explaining to Taeyong that they are his very special, most prized deck.

* * *

The two make it only a few steps from their carriage, before trouble arrives again in the form of Prince Jaehyun.

“YUTA!” Taeyong winces at the harsh tone, Jaehyun yelling while he’s pacing towards them quickly.

“Enough is enough, Yuta. Playtime is over; I need to talk to you  _ now _ .” Jaehyun’s voice is so firm, that Yuta pauses and faces him. While shorter than the raven haired man, Yuta makes up for it in confidence, Taeyong thinks. “Alone.” Jaehyun’s eyes motion to their clasped hands, Taeyong unsure of why Yuta is holding his hand, and not wanting to be some sort of pawn in whatever spat the two are having.

“I will of course talk to you, Jaehyun. But first, I want to have a fashion show with Taeyong.”

“A what?”

“You heard me, dumbass. A fashion show. You may watch of course.”

“Have you well and truly lost it?” Jaehyun looks like he’s on the verge of hitting Yuta, but maintains control by kicking at some stray rocks on the ground instead. “Or did you ever have a brain to begin with?”

Yuta just grins and pulls Taeyong along, back inside the castle, and towards his bedroom, Jaehyun hot on their heels. Their new clothing has been laid out carefully on the bed already, Taeyong realizing that another servant must have brought it up while Jaehyun and Yuta were arguing outside.

“Yuta, this is serious. I don’t have time for your games!”

The redhead ignores him and turns back to Taeyong, whispering to him to ‘_not be intimidated by the uglier prince, and just change into his outfit because he needed to assess how they looked next to one another_.’ Before Taeyong even has the opportunity to collect each piece of his new Midsummer outfit, Yuta’s stripping in front of both of them. Taeyong feels a soft flush on his face.

“Like what you see?”

“Oh my god, this is unreal.” Jaehyun looks like he’s about ready to kill someone, and Taeyong desperately hopes it isn’t him that will wind up the target of the prince’s fury.

“Taeyong, you change too!”

The brunette feels like his head is about to catch on fire at the ridiculousness of the situation, finally in agreement with Jaehyun about _something_. Not wanting to argue, he pads over to the edge of the bed and begins unbuttoning the top of his tunic. His fingers freeze, unable to continue when he feels both of their gazes on him, watching him begin to undress. “Can you two please turn around?”

“Oh, he’s modest. How cute!” Yuta turns his back, and finishes buttoning up his vest. "You heard him, Jae, don't watch."

Jaehyun makes no effort to avoid looking at Taeyong, the smaller’s cheeks now burning, once again feeling like the man looks at him like he’s studying him under a microscope. “Please, just turn around,” Taeyong softly pleads at him, finally satisfied when Jaehyun huffs and turns his back towards him. 

Taeyong hurriedly peels off his clothing, stepping gingerly into the new items, careful not to wrinkle or dirty them.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Taeyong states, the other two turning back towards him in response.

“Ah, lovely. What do you think of us; do we look good, Your Highness?” Yuta pulls Taeyong into his side, the two dressed in varying shades of lavender and violet.

“No,” Jaehyun blurts.

“Jesus christ, can you not be a dick for five minutes?”

“Yuta, we have a problem. And I need to talk to you now; I won’t ask you again.” He silently mouths a single word to Yuta, Taeyong unable to make out what it could be. He turns his head to the side, looking at Yuta in curiosity, finding that the other has gone suddenly stiff, the silly act officially dropped.

Yuta shakes his head, running a hand through his auburn locks, and turns back to Taeyong. “Tae, why don’t you head in for the night and call it a day. I’ll have someone send dinner to your room in a bit.” The words that leave his mouth sound like they belong to a completely different person than the one he’s been talking to the entire day, someone serious and earnest, not the weirdo who had been begging Taeyong to play children’s card games with him earlier.

He simply nods and makes a beeline for the door, feeling like he’s managed to teleport to his shared bedroom by the time he makes it there. What a bizarre day. 

Taeyong slips out of his Midsummer clothing and into something suitable for bed, smitten when he sees the peach shirt from earlier hanging in his shared closet with Sicheng.

Sliding underneath the safe haven of his covers, a single question racing through his mind -  _ what on Earth has the two princes so shaken? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there is a severe lack of Jaeyong interaction so far, but it's all part of the game and set-up!


	4. Tre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Yeah, probably why he could never like me. I’m unsightly. I’m surely unsightly to him.’
> 
> Noting that I’ve outlined this story to be approximately 12 parts (1 prologue, 10 actual chapters, 1 epilogue), so we’re going with this specific chapter being 4 out of 12 parts, but that could be subject to change by an extra chapter or so. 
> 
> A longer chapter this time with some much needed progression plot-wise (ambiguous as it may be for now) and relationship wise

The palace is about three weeks out from the much anticipated Midsummer party, and it also happens to coincide with Taeyong’s favorite time of the year. It’s the time when the weather truly begins to warm up, everyone foregoing heavy layers of clothing in lieu of short sleeves and light colors, the sun shining regularly instead of the same gloomy grey skies day after day. The days are no longer spent with the finicky weather going back and forth from cold to lukewarm, one wondering when things will ever begin to truly change for the summer months. Seeing the sun regularly delights Taeyong, memories of his childhood summers flooding back to his mind as the temperature slowly climbs with each passing day.

The kingdom’s capital is nestled in one of the southern most parts of the continent, which is definitely a change of pace for Taeyong, but he won’t complain for a second about the onslaught of the sudden heat and humidity. 

And now that he’s beginning to settle into his new life and daily routine, Taeyong can’t help but be in a particularly good mood lately as he’s laying on a blanket next to Sicheng in the grass, warm golden rays of sun beating down onto his face and arms. Sicheng had all but begged him to have lunch outside, and Taeyong couldn’t refuse when he was met with such a gorgeous day of bright blue skies and vibrant colors peppering the outside lawn. 

The two had lazily eaten as much as possible, Taeyong finishing up with two slices of cake, swiping Sicheng’s- who had complained he was way too full to eat it. Licking at the last remnants of the cake from his fingers, he almost regrets overeating with how full his stomach feels, rolling onto his back, turning away from the other. He justifies it by telling himself that it’s simply a crime not to eat leftover cake, courtesy of Irene (her baking skills are just too good and after all), he’s making up for lost time with how often he’s gone hungry in the past. 

Sicheng laughs a little, watching Taeyong uncomfortably shift on the blanket. “Indulged too much, did we?”

Taeyong groans, a mix of remorse and self satisfaction. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m perfectly content.”

“I think it’s a good thing.” Sicheng pulls halfheartedly at a handful of grass as Taeyong cracks an eye open at him questioningly. “You look good - better.”

“What do you mean?” Taeyong snaps back, taking slight offense at the remark.

“You look like you’ve put on a little weight. It suits you.” Sicheng opens his palm, letting the blades of grass blow casually in the breeze. 

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No, silly,” Sicheng laughs and reaches out to rustle Taeyong’s mop of hair. “You were so, so skinny. You’re still thin, but you just look healthier now.” Taeyong swats his hand away, before Sicheng adds, “maybe you’ll even grow an ass in a few months if you keep eating cake like that.”

Taeyong rolls back over, bloated stomach be damned, and punches at Sicheng’s arm. “You’re one to talk!”

“I’m just saying, you have no ass, Yongie.”

Taeyong pouts, closing his eyes, letting the warm sunshine hit his face and engulf his senses. Despite the overeating, he admittedly hasn’t felt this content in a long time, which he instantly feels guilty for. While he still misses his two brothers and father terribly, things had been growing better since he first arrived at the castle. 

He decides that even if just for today, he’s going to selfishly allow himself to feel a bit of happiness, and pushes any hint of guilt out of his mind when he looks at Sicheng’s smiling face and messy blonde hair. 

He feels grateful for the other boy, the closest person he’s considered to ‘friend’ status in a really long time. And despite Yuta’s weirdness, he’s also been a welcome reprieve lately. And food. And a soft bed. Clothes that actually fit him. All things he’s so unused to, from a life that feels like a hundred lifetimes ago.

He wonders idly if anyone would let him take some time to visit his family, or perhaps send them a package. He makes a mental note to cozy up to Yuta a bit more in hopes of persuading him with that task.

Before long he’s fighting the feeling of a food induced sleep coma while huddled up to Sicheng’s side, letting himself feel blissfully contented for even just a moment, until he relinquishes his mind and body to the gentle breeze and soft lullaby the crisp summer air affords him.

It feels like mere seconds later from when he first felt himself drifting off before he feels a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake.

“I was looking everywhere for you! Turns out, your little lazy ass is outside sleeping.”

Taeyong pushes himself back up on his arms, eyes blinking open in drowsiness and registering the ginger prince crouched down to his level.

“I needed you!”

“I’m,” Taeyong begins but suddenly flinches in discomfort. He brings a palm up to his face, skin feeling hot and tight to the touch. 

‘_Ugh, I’m sunburned. Stupid, stupid, stupid_.’

Seeing Taeyong’s red face, Yuta muses, “Ouch. Maybe you shouldn’t be dozing off outside when you’re supposed to be helping me!"

Taeyong groans, mouth feeling dry. “Sorry, Yuta. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” He senses that the other man is just messing with him, and not actually upset, but he still knows he should be careful and ensure the prince stays pleased with him- particularly if he’s still planning to bribe him so he can have contact with his father and brothers.

“Ah, you know what, it’s okay. I actually got a little worried about you though when I couldn’t find you, and nobody knew where you were,” Yuta says, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. When Taeyong doesn’t reply, he continues, “Why don’t you just take the day off? Do whatever you want. You deserve it.” He offers a soft smile, presenting his arm to Taeyong, helping him to his feet.

Yuta pauses to look at Sicheng, stirring from his own nap next to the brunette. “Sorry, little one. I have no jurisdiction over your schedule,” he smirks. “Anyway, I’m gonna head out. I’m just glad you’ve only suffered a little bit of sunburn and didn’t get kidnapped, or anything unpleasant like that.”

Taeyong watches him go, figure disappearing back towards the castle. He bends over to grab at the picnic basket, brushing crumbs off their plates and shoving them inside. 

Sicheng huffs, watching Taeyong pack up their mess. “You’re the newbie and already the palace favorite! No fair!”

“Would you like to switch places and deal with Yuta all day so you can become the favorite?” Taeyong cheekily looks at his friend, tugging at the blanket the blonde is still laying on top of.

“Ah, no. I really wouldn’t.” Sicheng pauses, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “But just now, he didn’t seem so bad. He’s nice to you.” Taking the hint, he rolls off the blanket, letting Taeyong finish packing it up.

“You said so yourself- it could just be an act. He’s unreadable, and more so than that, very unpredictable with his moods. But lately, yeah, he’s been pretty nice to me.”

As the two boys head back, Taeyong feeling a little perplexed, though definitely not mad at Yuta’s words earlier, like he actually _ did _ care about his well being.

* * *

Having the entirety of the day off is such a privilege that Taeyong doesn't intend to waste, no matter how badly he wants to curl back up in bed and continue his dream sequence from earlier.

After slathering himself in aloe, courtesy of Irene, who had just cooed, “oh honey,” over him at the sight of his sunburn, he decides to do a little exploring on his own. He’s carefully avoided the areas Sicheng warned him not to venture to during his initial orientation, but Sicheng had never mentioned any garden or outside premises being off limits. 

He makes his way towards one of the areas he saw when he first arrived at the castle, a little unsure if he's in the right spot once he makes his way there, the vibrant blue flowers from before missing. Instead, there’s just rows and rows of the same pink azaleas, half of which are dead or on the verge of withering. 

Looking more closely at a particular cluster of flowers that appears to be one kiss away from death's doorstep, brown spotting the otherwise lovely pink petals, Taeyong reaches out and grazes his fingers over the soft flesh of the plant. 

Almost instantly, as if some sort of magic trick, the petals begin to perk back up at his touch. Taeyong can feel it- like the tips of his fingers are a sort of lifeblood, a magnetic energy between the flowers and his own skin pulling at one another in a symbiotic dance.

He yanks his hand back suddenly, the sensation being too weird and wondering if he’s hallucinating. He touches a finger to his mouth, not feeling anything unusual outside of the roughness of his chapped lips.

The once withering flower is now again bright pink, looking like it’s just bloomed.

‘_I have to be hallucinating_. _ Or sick- maybe I’m getting sick. Maybe I have sun poisoning.’ _

Taeyong’s breath catches in his throat, and he glances around, hoping nobody is nearby. The coast appears to be clear, until he looks upwards, towards a familiar face looking right back at him from above, and the brunette wonders just for how long Prince Jaehyun has been watching him.

His feet feel rooted to the spot, unable to tear his gaze away from the other, though his brain keeps telling him to do so and run away. Jaehyun doesn’t make a move either, just continues to watch him with a curious expression on his face, not blinking even once, which freaks Taeyong out a little. They stare at one another for what feels like an eternity, before Taeyong forces his body to move, running back inside, up to his room and locking the door behind him.

_ ‘That’s what you get for not just going back to sleep like you really wanted, Taeyong.’ _

_'And really, you need to stop running away from him like this; that’s the second time he’s flustered you in such a way recently and it's beginning to be embarrassing.'_

He has no idea what’s just happened in the span of the past fifteen minutes or so, and feels like the most likely scenario is that he's imagined the entire thing and he’s losing his mind to a sudden and severe insanity. Those wicked princes are probably slowly poisoning him so that he won’t even realize it over time until it’s all at once too late- which really did happen to one of his neighbors growing up at the hand of his scornful wife. Ever since that drama of his early childhood, Taeyong had been paranoid about it happening to him.

He’s broken from visualizing Jaehyun happily and eagerly measuring out a tiny amount of rat poison into the cookie dough he’s been smashing in lately by a knock on his door.

At first Taeyong plans to ignore it, until his body betrays him and he shifts nervously, floorboards creaking below his feet loud enough to signal that someone is definitely in the room. When he doesn’t make a move, the door opens. Taeyong, about to faint in sudden terror at Jaehyun’s body looming from his door frame, doesn't budge from his spot.

The black haired prince begins, coughing slightly. “I, uhm. I saw you outside.”

_'No shit. You looked at me for at least a solid minute without blinking, like the serial killer I suspect you may be.'_

“I know.”

If Jaehyun had noticed anything weird about Taeyong’s magical new green thumb, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he presses on, further into the room, and closer to Taeyong. That same look of simple curiosity is back on his face, brown eyes flickering over Taeyong’s form. “You’re sunburned?”

“I-”

“I can give you something for it.”

“It’s fine; I already have something for it.”

Jaehyun ignores the comment, padding over to his and Sicheng's shared closet area and running his hands across the doorframe. Taeyong wills him via his non-existent telepathy not to open it, not to question why he has a very fancy, very silky shirt in there that’s no use to him and he’ll likely never be able to wear out of the confines of his bedroom. 

Jaehyun doesn’t open the door; he doesn’t turn back to face Taeyong. “Do you like it out there? In the garden?”

Taeyong hesitates, wondering if it’s a trick question, wondering if Jaehyun’s upset about him meddling in there for some reason. But something in him tells him to be honest with the other man, that it’s no use lying to him. “I do. I like it very much.” The words leave his throat before he can pull them back in. 

At that, Jaehyun turns back to face him. And for the first time, the prince offers him a gentle - genuine - smile, the corners of his mouth curling up and revealing two very deep dimples on both sides of his cheeks. Taeyong sucks in a breath at how handsome the other looks when he’s smiling, smiling _ like he’s happy _. 

_ ‘Stop it, Taeyong. He may be good looking, but he is not nice. He’s your enemy and you shouldn’t be swayed so easily by stupid, handsome men.’ _

But Taeyong knows better, knows that he is absolutely a person swayed by good looks and flowery words. While Johnny may have lacked the poetic romance, he certainly held up in the looks department. Jaehyun is a royal prince in title and appearance, but Johnny is _ normal _ handsome to Taeyong, and in a way, that’s a lot sexier to him because he seems _ real _in comparison.

He shuts off his mind, not wanting to compare the two men; it’s totally unfair and completely absurd when one is basically a fuck buddy and the other is an antagonist. And can he even consider Johnny a fuck buddy at this point when it's likely he'll never see him again - or at the very least, before he finds someone else better than him?

Stirring Taeyong from his thoughts, Jaehyun reaches out and brushes his hand against his shoulder. “Good. I’m glad someone does. Starting tomorrow, you’re spending less time with Yuta, and more time out there. As you can tell, there’s a lot of work to do to prep for Midsummer.” He pauses, forehead wrinkling a bit. “But, next time, don’t get sunburned, okay?” 

Taeyong looks back at Jaehyun from his position, not understanding where this sudden docile side of the man is coming from. But he’s nice to look at, so Taeyong lets himself stare for just another minute or two back into Jaehyun’s honey brown eyes. There’s warmness to them, perhaps influenced by the incoming golden hour of the sun from outside, rays leaking into the bedroom and shining on Jaehyun’s face. But the nicer scenario is that Jaehyun actually is just being kind, for whatever reason.

‘M_aybe he’s just sentimental or prideful about that garden_’, Taeyong muses. 

And sentimental about that garden Jaehyun is, though the extent to which Taeyong has no idea.

For Corinthia's premier Prince, it's been months of buying, planting, and tending to the flowers around the outside. The other members of his family have all agreed to continue doing so to ensure the appearance of the castle is kept up to standard and that nothing _ appears _to be in disarray. Silently, each of them are worried about the fact that no matter the type of flower, it seems to wilt and die in a matter of days after being brought to the castle. Sometimes much less. And so much death.

It had started around the time Jaehyun’s mother first fell ill. She had always loved the castles gardens, spending most of her free time there. In particular, she had always loved orange chrysanthemums and the mere sight of the flower reminded Jaehyun of her during happier times. Before anyone realized how serious her condition was (and she was assumed to just be suffering from a common cold), Jaehyun had brought her an enormous arrangement of the flowers, mixed in with smaller, purple ones.

When he returned to her room the next day to bring her tea, the entire bouquet was dead.

It hadn’t made any sense to him at the time. He had written the incident off as a fluke, a bad batch. When it happened the second time, he knew the answer was a lot more complicated. He knew deep down what that answer might be, just too afraid to admit it to himself.

It’s not just the constant decay of living things, but how food tastes like ash in Jaehyun’s mouth, the way his skin dulls, and his cough that keeps nagging at him that causes worry.

And when he had seen Taeyong below his window, tenderly taking care of those pink azaleas, all he could see was a burst of orange and purple in his wake, finally feeling something again for the first time in so, so long.

* * *

While at first Yuta huffed about Taeyong spending less time following him around, he doesn't seem to really care when Taeyong mentions the change of plans to him the next day. He eventually relents that Jaehyun had already told him earlier during breakfast so he’d had time to ‘_mentally prep himself for his loss of Taeyong’s company’. _

“You should be grateful; Jaehyun thinks it’ll make you happy. And trust me when I say, that man doesn’t give a fuck about anyone’s happiness.”

“Why does he care?”

Yuta avoids the question, choosing instead to fiddle with a rubix cube made out of various colored gemstones. Taeyong thinks it’s the most stupidly ostentatious thing he’s ever seen in his entire life.

“I dunno. Maybe Jaehyun’s jealous of the attention.” His face lights up when he manages to snap a row of shiny rubies right into place. “But, whether it’s jealous of you for the attention I get, or of me because I’m giving you attention, I’m not really sure.”

Taeyong blanches at that, and guffaws back at Yuta. “Jealous of you?”

“Totally. He may not look it, but he’s needy. And I think deep down, he must like you at least a teeny tiny bit. At the very least, he’s said more than three words to you, which is practically an odyssey length novel in comparison to the conversations he has with anyone else serving the royal family. You're already golden because he _tolerates_ you.”

“You’re stupid.” 

Taeyong thinks to himself how horrified Sicheng would be at him talking back like that to royalty, good little obedient Sicheng. But Taeyong has learned that Yuta loves it, thrives off of sarcasm and sass. 

“Hah, maybe.” The other man goes back to fiddling with his rubix cube, Taeyong deep in thought about Jaehyun being _ jealous. _ Perhaps of him, if he and Yuta were as close friends as things appeared. Taeyong muses that he has spent an awful lot of time with the ginger haired prince lately, and maybe it’s beginning to annoy Jaehyun. But he _ seemed _to be the opposite of annoyed with him after the incident in the garden.

He doesn’t want to pry, but curiosity winds up getting the better of him, and he finds himself asking Yuta, “Does Jaehyun have a reason for wanting me to work out there?”

“Well, as you can see, most of the garden’s dead. And because of that, it’s unsightly. He doesn’t like unsightly.”

_ ‘Yeah, probably why he could never like me. I’m unsightly. I’m surely unsightly to him.’ _

“Okay, but why me?” Taeyong fires back. 

“I don’t know? Why don’t you ask him?”

“I’m just curious because it seemed important to him. I don’t know.”

Yuta sighs, appearing to be fed up with his unfruitful conquest of the rubix cube, and practically pushes Taeyong out of his room. “Like I said, why don’t you ask him? He’s basically a recluse these days, so there is a high probability you can find him right next door.”

Yuta slams the door shut, and Taeyong turns his face, eyes fixated on the dark wooden door down the hallway that he now knows belongs to Prince Jaehyun. He has to pass it on his way to the stairs anyway, so what harm could it do to just press his face against the door and maybe try to see if Jaehyun's inside?

Which is exactly what Taeyong does. 

The wood of the door feels cool against his cheek, ears straining to pick up any semblance of sound or activity in the room. He wonders if Jaehyun is indeed inside, or even at the palace at all. With the way Yuta talks about him, he begins to realize that Jaehyun must spend a lot of time behind this door, which is the complete opposite of what Taeyong initially thought when he never saw him around the place during his first week of work. 

He hears a faint rustling, so quiet that it could be nothing. Or could be _ something. _

Taeyong wants to knock, wants to see Jaehyun for some weird reason he doesn’t even understand. His fingers slide up the frame of the door, common sense nagging at him not to do it.

But he wants to knock, so he does. Softly, only loud enough to signal someone at the door, or pretend like it’s a mistake and dash away if Jaehyun’s temper causes him to become irritated by his presence.

Before he has time to rethink and scramble away, it opens and he’s face to face again with the same pair of brown eyes from yesterday. 

Taeyong realizes that he’s never seen the interior of Jaehyun’s room before. Curiosity gets the better of him, so he peeks behind the other man’s head to get a glimpse at the high ceilings, various framed pictures and diagrams scattered neatly on top of deep purple walls. The room looks huge, but dark and closed off at the same time, giving him an unsettling feeling of claustrophobia. From the bits and pieces of the room Taeyong can see around Jaehyun’s imposing frame, it appears neat, tidy, orderly. Exactly how he imagined Jaehyun to be.

Jaehyun peers at him through his messy bangs, looking a little disheveled compared to his usually immaculate appearance. “Oh, it’s you. Do you need something?”

Taeyong snaps his gaze back to the other man, hoping it doesn’t appear like he’s being nosy. “I-no,” Taeyong stutters out, willing his existence to just evaporate on the spot.

Jaehyun glances down at his wrist, “Oh, yeah, the time. You ready to work your magic?” Jaehyun gives him a slight wink, and while Taeyong’s heart flutters a little at the gesture, he’s also a kind of freaked out by the word ‘magic’, wondering if the prince had indeed seen anything weird happening when he’d previously been out in the garden. 

Taeyong cocks his head to the side, mouth opening to respond, before Jaehyun keeps going. 

“Why don’t you take some of this?” Before he realizes it, Jaehyun disappears back into the confines of his room, rummaging in his nightstand drawer. He returns and grabs Taeyong’s hand, giving him a little bottle of sunscreen and gently curling Taeyong’s own fingers around it in his grasp. 

Taeyong had to admit, the gesture is almost cute, it if isn’t for the fact he’s still performing labor for Jaehyun for no reason other than the fact that he’s poor and basically an indentured servant. After all, if Jaehyun or Yuta or anyone else actually cared, they’d just let him go home right now. 

“Thanks,” Taeyong mutters. “I’ll be going now.” He turns on his feel, careful not to trip and fall as he books it down the hallway, not even sparing a glance back at Jaehyun’s face, only hearing the door softly click shut in the distance.

Making it halfway down the staircase, he realizes he’d been distracted and had forgotten to pry about the prince’s motives. He figures it doesn’t really matter anyway though; if Jaehyun wants him to fix things up out there, he’ll have to do it regardless because any reason or ulterior motive behind it simply doesn’t matter. 

Making it a few hours outside without anything strange happening this time (just copious amounts of weed pulling and administering fertilizer), Taeyong wipes his sweaty forehead, and peers back at the prince’s window that he caught him spying out of the previous day. This time, there’s no Jaehyun in sight, and he’s almost a little disappointed, though not sure why. Jaehyun’s aware he’s down here at the moment, but it’s not like he really wants to be critiqued if he’s doing anything not up to the other’s standards. Why should Jaehyun sit and supervise his work after all? He probably has other things to - like according to Yuta ‘furiously masturbate to textbooks’ within the confines of that purple room.

Taeyong laughs a little to himself at that one, unable to even picture Jaehyun like that at all. He’s too straight-laced, and way, way too serious. He imagines Jaehyun would go about it clinically and sterile, with little to no appreciation for the artistic merits of a good self-wank performance.

While the thought amuses him enough as he continues to sweat under the sun, Taeyong’s insides feel a little wobbly with his mind occupied by the other man. Deep down, Taeyong feels something had changed between them yesterday - even if it had been so small as to be almost insignificant, it was the first time Jaehyun had shown him any sense of kindness or even talked to him without a gruff edge in his voice.

And honestly, he’s a little shocked that Jaehyun hadn’t snapped at him earlier when he disturbed him in his room, much less been _ helpful_. 

He looks down at one of the withering pink flowers in his hand, willing his fingertips to bring it back to life - almost as if testing his sanity on what transpired yesterday. When nothing happens, Taeyong sighs and goes back to digging at the area surrounding the dead plant. 

* * *

Two weeks out from the party, and everyone appears to be in panic mode. None of the food, decor, or events list are even remotely defined (much less finished), and everyone’s stressed to the point of exhaustion. Everyone minus Taeyong, who doesn’t really care if it goes well or not - not his problem. He’s been spending more and more time casually wandering around outside for half of his days, the other half listening to Yuta ramble nonsense. Surely, he thinks, it’s because he’s on a looser leash than he was originally, and not at all some form of stockholm syndrome he’s starting to experience for the two princes.

Yuta, for what he’s worth, has been nothing but friendly towards him throughout the duration of his prestigious career as a palace-bitch, and Jaehyun has warmed up from frostbite to lukewarm bathwater. He’ll take lukewarm bathwater over frostbite any day, considering frostbite can kill and leave permanent damage. Lukewarm bathwater might be a little uncomfortable, but definitely viable in comparison to the alternative.

He ultimately decides that while being friendly to Jaehyun isn’t exactly easy, it can certainly be useful if he intends to make any progress on getting back home to his family in the near future. So for them, he’ll be as nice as possible and play along for now.

After having spruced up the garden area outside of Jaehyun’s window, he’s managed to clean up two other smaller areas with decaying plants. For the life of him, Taeyong doesn’t understand how the entirety of the palace’s flora is dead when it’s peak season for blooming flowers, but he supposes it gives him an excuse to do something he finds enjoyable regardless.

He’s contentedly working away, until his ears pick up the sound of treading footsteps nearby. 

He turns, almost dropping his trowel when he sees the man himself that occupies his mind lately. 

Taeyong clears his throat, intending to sound as normal and not caught-off-guard as possible. “Do you need something?” He asks, posing the same question Jaehyun’s asked him several times in the past.

Jaehyun smirks at him, like he knows it’s a dig, shrugging and slumping down onto a bench, directly opposite of the smaller. “I’m just making sure you’re not fucking up,” he says, mean in his delivery, but not in the softness of his face. 

“Have I fucked up yet?”

“Not at all.” Jaehyun pulls a book out of the bag he’s brought with him, and turns away from Taeyong to begin reading.

Satisfied with the response, Taeyong goes back to work, duly ignoring the other. 

They go about this for awhile, Taeyong contentedly tending to a rosebush, while Jaehyun’s nose is buried in his book. The smaller dips his face into a yellow rose that’s fully bloomed, breathing in the fresh scent. Cliche as it is, Taeyong has always loved the smell of roses. When he pulls his face out of the flowers, he sees Jaehyun staring at him again, trying to be discreet from behind his book.

“Are you sure you don’t need something?”

“Am I not allowed to spend time outside in my own home?”

“Of course you are, but why are you staring at me like that?”

Jaehyun snaps his book shut, “I wasn’t!”

“You were. What is up with you?”

“Nothing,” Jaehyun brushes off the question, continuing “I just felt like reading outside, that’s all.” He pauses, glaring at Taeyong. “You shouldn’t talk to me like that.”

Taeyong shrugs, responding back with, “Of course. You’re right,” before the two fall back into momentary silence. 

However, Jaehyun doesn’t appear satisfied to let the conversation die there. 

“Are you sleeping well?” He asks, peering over his book again.

“I’m okay,” Taeyong hums back, grabbing a set of pruning shears and beginning to cut at some of the thicker stems of roses.

“Yuta’s not bothering you too much, is he?”

“He’s alright.” 

Jaehyun pauses, fidgeting a little. Taeyong, sensing Jaehyun’s frustration at his short answers, smiles to himself. Suddenly, the tables seemed to have turned where he’s the one with the upper hand on Jaehyun, and he has no idea why or how, but he’s not displeased with this new development.

“Do you want me to get rid of him for you?”

What.

The.

Fuck. 

Before he even realizes he’s voiced ‘what the fuck’ out loud to Jaehyun, Taeyong lets out a loud cry as a sharp and intense pain pierces his senses from his right index finger. He looks down and sees trails of ruby red flowing quickly down his arm, and if it weren’t horrifying, it’d almost look beautiful in a twisted way.

The brunette whimpers at the intense pain, dropping the pruning shears and realizing that he’s cut himself from his own stupid clumsiness. Before he has the opportunity to move, he registers Jaehyun at his side, kneeling and grabbing at his hand, pressing his finger into a cloth pulled from his pocket to help suppress the bleeding.

“You’re stupid, Taeyong.” Taeyong’s heart flutters slightly at hearing Jaehyun say his name, despite the insult.

“You’re a jerk, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun smiles, continuing to press on his finger and will the open wound to stop bleeding. “What did I just tell you? That’s _ Prince _Jaehyun to you.” Taeyong watches him, Jaehyun’s face focused and attentive to his wounded finger. 

Taeyong hisses when he continues to apply more pressure, before Jaehyun adds, “or you could just call me Your Highness. If you prefer.”

Taeyong looks at him, smiles back. "You're a jerk, _Prince_ Jaehyun.”

The answer rips a slight chuckle from Jaehyun’s lips, and they quietly sit there together, Taeyong pressing his lips together so firmly from the dissipating pain and pressure on his finger.

The bleeding finally stops after a few more minutes, Jaehyun tapping at his finger and tying the cloth into a tight knot around it.

“You should be more careful if you’re going to play with objects that have sharp edges,” Jaehyun breathes out.

‘_I should be more careful if I continue spending time with a person that has sharp edges like you, _’ Taeyong thinks.

Jaehyun reaches out, brushing his fingertips across Taeyong’s forearm, sliding down until he’s reached his hand, pressing against the brunette’s knuckles lightly. It feels nice and it’s comforting against the throbbing pain in his finger, and altogether too gentle from someone as _ usually _ intimidating as Prince Jaehyun.

It makes him like he’s stepped into an alternate reality, where suddenly two plus two equals five and people walk upside down on the ceiling. The sudden kindness and almost intimate gesture from Jaehyun isn’t unwelcome, but it is surely bizarre in a way when he thinks about the other’s initial behavior towards him.

He lets his eyes wander to Jaehyun’s, allowing himself to really study his face for the first time. He’s looked at the other man, but never really_ seen _him, especially not so up close like this before. His first impression was that the man was indeed handsome, the kind of handsome one would expect from a prince. He has the face and body of any ‘Prince Charmings’ from his mother's bedtime stories, perhaps just not the temperament. That’s what Jaehyun is - a beautiful man on paper alone. A beautiful man in appearance, in newspaper articles and history textbooks, but not in reality. He is an illusion, and if Taeyong were to reach out to him, he just knows his hand would cut straight through him as if he were a ghost.

But Taeyong has always been enamored with beauty, so he mentally traces the slope of Jaehyun's nose, the soft curvature of his full lips, and he wonders if Jaehyun ever does the same to him. ‘_What does he see when he looks at me? _’ 

He’s only broken from his thoughts when Jaehyun’s touch continues to caress his non-injured fingers, grazing softly down his nails. He stops there, casually playing with the pads of Taeyong's fingertips in soothing motions.

It’s too much, too much from nothing, and Taeyong feels the need to yank his hand away, as if he has been burned by ice water. “Why are you being like this suddenly?”

“Like what?”

“You’re being so kind, after multiple instances of being downright insulting towards me.” Taeyong brushes off a little dirt from his thighs and gets back to work checking the flower bed for any dead leaves that need to be pulled. “Frankly, it’s weird.”

“Should I be rude to you instead?”

“No. Just wondering what the catch is?”

“There isn’t one.”

Taeyong cocks an eyebrow at the response. “Sure.” The prince appears to make himself comfortable with no intention to leave his side, so the brunette just continues to ignore him, the two of them sitting together on the ground of the rose garden. Taeyong muses that if it weren’t so weird, this would be almost romantic, not expecting Jaehyun to be so uncaring about being covered in dirt. 

“Do you like to read?” 

Taeyong shifts uncomfortably, turning his attention back to the roses in order to avoid Jaehyun’s face, ears growing hot, and suddenly thankful that his sunburn is conveniently hiding an incoming blush. “Uh, I guess. Sure.”

“Here then,” Jaehyun shifts in his spot, handing him the same leather bound book he was engrossed in earlier. “You should read it and tell me what you think. I have another copy in my library.” He hands it over to Taeyong, not giving the other the opportunity to protest.

Taeyong pulls the book into his chest and looks at the cover with a hint of curiosity. He lets his non-bloodied hand graze the cover, before opening it up to somewhere in the middle, the characters and symbols printed on the page making as much sense as a bunch of squiggles. 

“Thank you,” he whispers back to Jaehyun, both of them crouched on the ground, looking back at one another. “I, uhm, don’t know when I’ll have time to read it of course.”

“Are you that busy? Would you be happy if I cleared your schedule?”

“Oh, no, no. You don’t need to do that!” Taeyong stammers, willing his nerves to calm down. 

Jaehyun’s still looking at him, sudden understanding forming on his face. “Hmm. I don’t think I’ve ever been turned down an offer to give _ less _ work to someone before, I must say.” Jaehyun flips to the very first page of the book and turns back to Taeyong, looking him straight in the eye. “Just read the first paragraph.”

“I-”

Taeyong is certain he’s so red that not even his sunburn can hide his feelings now.

“What’s the problem?”

The smaller shamefully looks away for a moment. His eyes flick back down to the pages of the book, scanning the lines of text and unsuccessfully willing his brain to understand their meaning.

A look of understanding forms on the prince’s face, sudden realization dawning. “Ah, you can’t read.” Jaehyun states bluntly, matter of factly. 

“No,” Taeyong whispers softly. When Jaehyun doesn’t make a move to say anything else, he adds, “there was never a point, never an opportunity. You may find this surprising, but that’s not exactly high on the list of priorities for people like me.”

“People like you?”

“People who don’t live in giant castles, who have other people do everything for them. People who are just trying to get by one day at a time out there,” he makes a gesture to the outside lawn behind them. 

“I don’t know if you realize this, but you live in a giant castle now,” Jaehyun retorts back with a hint of edge back in his voice.

Taeyong, deciding he’s had enough of the conversation, stands up abruptly. His knees wobble in protest at the sudden movement. “Was all of this just build up to make fun of me for being stupid and not being able to read? You just knew, right? Is that why you came out here? To set me up like that?”

Jaehyun, not breaking eye contact, slowly rises to his feet, and looks down at the smaller. “I didn’t know.”

“Well now you do. And now you can hold it over my head,” Taeyong grumbles, feeling embarrassed and irritated. 

“Hey,” Jaehyun starts, following suit and standing up to meet Taeyong’s eye level. “That was never my intention.”

“But you pushed and you pushed and now you know I’m just an illiterate indentured servant to you. Does that make you feel bigger than me? Make you feel better and smarter?” Taeyong can feel his voice on the verge of cracking and knows he needs to leave before he embarrasses himself further by crying, but he keeps going. “You were born better than me! By existing as you are right now, you’re all of those things!”

Tears threatening to form at the corner of his eyes, Taeyong looks miserably at the taller. 

Jaehyun opens his mouth to hit back, a look of bewilderment on his face at the other’s reaction, and Taeyong for a split second lets himself believe he may get an apology or at least some kind of soothing words.

Jaehyun, holding his breath in, softly murmurs, “I don’t know what to say.”

Feeling foolish and ashamed at revealing such an embarrassing facet of his life, Taeyong can practically hear a whooshing noise in his ears, all sense of reality around him faltering. How stupid of him indeed to think he’d ever receive something like an apology from Prince Jaehyun. 

Mustering every ounce of strength he has left from this draining social encounter, Taeyong lets out, “So don’t. Don’t say anything at all, _Your Highness_.”

He turns to leave, face flush and wet from the scattered tears now sliding down his cheeks. 

* * *

The next day Taeyong prays to whatever god exists that he can experience some sense of normalcy and routine again. His appeal to a higher power is seemingly answered as he mulls about with Yuta like they usually do, accompanying him around the palace and picking up after he leaves a trail of chaos where he goes. Usually in the form of mess. Almost always in the form of mess - which, Taeyong can deal with better than he can the inner turmoil that comes with being in Jaehyun’s presence lately.

_'Must avoid Jaehyun at all costs for the rest of my existence,’ _ Taeyong muses to himself, still feeling embarrassed- both at the fact that the prince now knows he can’t read to save his life, and at his overreaction to the situation.

He thought about it all night and decided it was indeed an overreaction, but it’s still completely humiliating knowing that Jaehyun is aware of just how uncultured and stupid he is. 

“Ah, I just remembered something,” Yuta states simply, no inflection or hint of what it might be. “You’re to be downstairs in the left wing library each day at three o’clock sharp for one hour now that you’ve finished dealing with all the shit outside. Very irritating for me to lose you like this _ again _, but it’s an order.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll see,” Yuta smirks at him. “Now, make yourself useful; I want you to tell me which of my shoes match this vest best.” He holds out a navy blue satin vest on a hanger for Taeyong to admire.

The brunette groans, checking the clock on the wall and seeing that he has approximately one hour before whatever it is he’s supposed to be doing in the library. 

“I’ll make three piles - good, okay, and bad. You can tell me which shoes go in which pile.”

Taeyong still can’t believe he’s being employed to give his non-existent fashion advice to a crown prince, but he knows it could always be worse. Much worse.

At around ten minutes before three, Taeyong makes his way down to the left wing library, leaving Yuta to play solitaire - surprisingly a game he’s unfamiliar with. Taeyong assumes it’s because he’s always had someone at his beck and call to entertain him, and it’s been coming in handy anytime he needs to do something and prefers Yuta to be quiet while he works.

When he arrives, he tiptoes into the massive library. He’s unsure of what - or who - he’s supposed to be looking for, but assumes that it’ll be clear soon enough. He lets his eyes wander over the high, vaulted ceilings that kiss shelves upon shelves of books leather bound books. 

“Ah, Taeyong, is it?”

An older man approaches him, pushing his round glasses up his nose and reaches a hand out. “It’s so very nice to meet you. My name is Jinki.”

“Hello,” Taeyong reaches out, and slowly shakes his hand, still unsure of what is expected of him.

“I’ll be tutoring you for one hour each day over the course of the next couple of weeks at Sir Jaehyun’s request. Shall we begin?”

_ Oh. _ Sudden realization hits, and he’s instantly furious, but wills himself to cool down when he sees Jinki’s kind face turn towards him and motion to a nearby table and chairs. It’s not like it’s his fault - ‘ _ after all, I’m just a puppet and must bend to any which way Jaehyun sways me, hand firmly up my ass,’ _Taeyong thinks.

The young brunette decides to let whatever unpleasant feelings he has about the situation go for now and settles in with his new tutor, the hour passing by freakishly fast. He ultimately decides that he doesn’t care if Jaehyun’s mocking him; he actually does want to take advantage of this. Passing secret notes with Sicheng could prove useful - if Sicheng could read and write. Taeyong isn’t sure; it’s not exactly a friendship starter conversation, having always been extraordinarily self conscious of his own illiteracy. But surely Sicheng knows if he was practically raised here though?

Jinki closes the book in front of him and gathers up the papers they were practicing on. “You did well, Taeyong! You’ll be reading this library’s longest novels in no time.”

“Thank you,” Taeyong replies and he earnestly means it. Jinki had been nothing but patient with him the entire time, and Taeyong appreciates the other man for bearing with him.

Jinki’s glasses have slid down his nose, and he reaches to push them back towards his eyes, peering at Taeyong. “Jaehyun spoke fondly of you. Not sure what you did to affect him like that, but nice work. It’s not very often he’s uhm, how should I say this? Mellow?”

Taeyong laughs at that, “Somehow, I very much doubt that he spoke fondly about me.”

“He did. And taking interest in the personal well-being of someone of your rank - which. I don’t mean any offense by, is unusual for him in particular.”

“Do you know him well?”

“Very well. I was also his tutor from the time he was a child.”

“He’s… tough to crack.”

Jinki laughs. “Yeah, you could put it that way.”

* * *

Taeyong makes it through a full week of tutoring with Jinki, before he’s starting to get the hang of basic reading skills, but it’s still difficult, and he still feels stupid stuttering over very simple phrases.

He doesn’t mention any of this to Sicheng, continuing his afternoon lessons in secrecy. He definitely does not mention any of this to Yuta, who is likely already aware, but the thought of discussing that part of his life with the other prince is absolutely not something he’s up for. Yuta probably doesn’t care either way; he clearly isn’t the intellectual prince of his and Jaehyun’s duo- but still.

Now that the palace is one week out from Midsummer, Taeyong’s workload begins to pick back up again. Irene’s already dropped her usually sweet demeanor, having yelled at him twice already on this particular morning for being absent minded and making mistakes while they practiced a couple of traditional recipes together.

Taeyong’s had about enough of her nagging, furiously beating a couple of eggs after Irene sulked off to probably bitch at someone else about something equally and trivially stupid. Surrounded by a mass of cakes, cookies, and a mountain of macaroons, Taeyong grips the handle of his whisk harder and continues to wreak havoc on his eggs. He’s disturbed from taking out his frustrations by none other than the man he keeps actively avoiding.

Funny, he spends a lot of time consciously avoiding Jaehyun, only for him to keep barreling back into his life.

Jaehyun saunters up to the kitchen counter, popping one of Taeyong’s poor chocolate cupcake experiments into his mouth. “How are things going?”

Taeyong wonders if perhaps Irene is still around at all, but finding himself very much alone with the raven haired prince. “Everything is fine,” he replies nonchalantly. 

“And your lessons?” Jaehyun chews, slightly grimacing. Taeyong makes a mental note to throw the rest of those cupcakes into the garbage later.

“Also fine.”

Jaehyun smiles, dimples popping back out. “I’m glad.”

He continues to pick silently at the cupcake, Taeyong watching as the other man’s pink tongue licks at the frosting on the top. Had he known what would transpire with that frosting earlier, he never would have suggested practicing cupcakes with Irene. 

Jaehyun stops eating momentarily and asks, “Will you walk with me?”

“Huh?” Taeyong, not having been paying attention to any words coming from the other’s mouth completely mishears him.

“Please walk with me,” Jaehyun places the remaining half of the cake back on the counter. He appears hesitant when he asks, but not unsure. Which is why Taeyong reluctantly finds himself replying back to the other man with a simple, “okay,” sliding up next to him.

They walk together in silence through the open courtyard, passing by several other servants stringing up lights so that they wind romantically around the ivy that crawls up each white column. 

There’s a grouping of four marble statues in the center of the courtyard, holding hands in a circle. Some are missing hands, arms, and two are missing their heads. They look like they should be beautiful, but instead they unsettle Taeyong a little. It’s as though the two with their heads still intact follow his movements as he walks around their peripheral. 

Taeyong lets his fingers skim one of the statue's legs, turning his head back towards Jaehyun curiously. “Why are two of them missing their heads?” The cool marble feels tingly against his hand. And then suddenly, he can feel a pinprick of pain at his temple, like a headache is looming. 

Jaehyun shifts on his feet, before coming to stand at Taeyong’s side. He doesn’t say anything, just reaches out to grab the smaller's hand and pull it away from caressing the marble.

“Were they made that way on purpose? Or did someone cut their heads off afterward?”

Jaehyun looks at him, expression unreadable. “I’m not sure.” He pulls Taeyong along by the hand, past the statues, and away into a quiet alcove. Jaehyun sits on the stone bench there, patting the spot next to him for Taeyong to follow. The brunette does so, sitting down next to the prince, fidgeting with his fingers in his lap. The finger he had cut open before is almost completely healed, just minor bruising at the tip, and Taeyong hides it beneath his thigh when he notices Jaehyun staring at it.

“Taeyong, I wanted to tell you I didn’t mean anything by it... the last time I saw you. I really didn’t, uhm, you know - know?”

“It’s fine, and seriously, can we just move on from it?”

“Yeah.” Jaehyun leans back, back hitting the hard stone of the alcove. “But I’m glad that your lessons with Jinki are going well - _ if _you’re being truthful.” 

His tone is playful, and Taeyong also feeling playful at the remark, lightly slaps at Jaehyun’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t lie!”

“You know, you really are quite bold. Hitting me, being short with me like this. Where do you get off?”

“I guess I’m just terribly disobedient. Do you want me to bow down and kiss your feet each time we cross paths and refer to you only as Your Highness from now on?”

“I want you to try reading this,” Jaehyun says and pulls out a slip of paper from his pocket and hands it to the brunette. 

Taeyong takes the paper, looking at the scribbling, a little disappointed that Jaehyun didn’t play into his banter like he’d hoped.

“How am I supposed to read this?” Taeyong looks down at the crinkled sheet of notebook paper and cocks an eyebrow back at the other. “Did you write it?”

Jaehyun looks at him quizzically. “Yes.”

“You have terrible handwriting,” Taeyong offers with a soft smile.

“Says the guy who couldn’t read a single word until recently. Just try.”

Taeyong glances down at the paper again, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “S-some time ago, the world’s biggest-,” Taeyong looks back up at Jaehyun, eyes wide. “What’s this one?”

“Idiot,” Jaehyun says flatly.

“Idiot?”

“Keep going.”

“Some time ago, the world’s biggest idiot came to leave-”

“Live.”

“Came to live in a castle and his name was Lee Tae-”

Taeyong looks up at a wickedly evil Jaehyun and decides to hit his chest with more force this time. “You _awful man_! That was on purpose!”

“But you did an incredible job; you’re a fast learner! I suppose Jinki deserves a raise for working a miracle on the likes of you.” Taeyong groans at Jaehyun’s attempt to be funny- which was very not funny to him.

Suddenly though, the headache from earlier rears its ugly head again, Taeyong blinking by its onslaught. He whimpers as the pain shoots through his temples, throbbing so bad he feels like he may pass out.

Jaehyun grabs his shoulder, shaking him a little and brushing his other hand against his jawline. “You okay there?”

Taeyong rubs at his forehead, pain concentrated right in the center of his eyebrows. “I don’t think so. I have a headache- just… need a minute.” Taeyong knows when one of _ these _types of headaches is coming along, and this one feels even more intense than the last time it happened. His fingers tremble a little uncontrollably against his face before he feels them covered by Jaehyun’s. 

He feels himself being pulled into the crook of Jaehyun’s neck, an arm gently rubbing at his back.

The last thing he remembers before his vision goes dark and he passes out, is Jaehyun’s mouth moving and forming words speaking to him. But it’s too late, he hears nothing, only sees black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been toying with the idea of a much more lighthearted (as in silly) modern AU Jaeyong one-shot that I’m going to try to bang out over the course of the next couple of weeks that I’ve been working on simultaneously with this one. There truly can never be enough of this particular ship ;)


	5. Quattro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god- I sincerely apologize for such an extended delay. All I can say is 2020 has been an extraordinarily SHITTY year for a multitude of reasons, and it really killed my writing vibe for awhile and I know that it isn't just me either so I hope all of you are 1) safe 2) healthy and 3) thriving (as much as you can right now). I hope this chapter brings some joy, even if Jae is kind of a fuckboy.

Taeyong wakes up in a complete stupor in an unfamiliar bed three days after passing out from the worst migraine he’s ever suffered in his life. 

One of the staff nurses fusses over him until he feels as though he's aged a hundred years before she deems him fit to return back to his daily routine. They bicker back and forth until he begrudgingly eats about half of the plate of food she leaves for him before he’s cleared to leave what looks like a giant infirmary somewhere in the underground area of the castle.

He immediately collapses and sleeps for another eight hours once he’s back inside the comfort of his own bed. 

It’s not until he begins to stir, back aching from the position he’s been laying in for days and mouth terribly dry like he’s been chewing on cotton, does he realize just how weak his body feels. Blinking his eyes open, sleep still dragging at the corners, he sees Sicheng watching him from his own bed. 

“Oh my god, you’re awake!”

Taeyong groans back, "Oh my god, I'm awake!"

The brunette rolls right back over, absolutely ready to sleep again. For whatever reason unbeknownst to him, he has zero desire to remain conscious, as if his body has been zapped and depleted of any semblance of energy. He feels bad, lethargic, sick. He feels dirty, sweaty, gross, and doesn’t miss just how god awful his breath smells either, but still doesn’t have any will to actually get up.

Sicheng kneels by his side, looking into his face. “Jaehyun brought you inside freaking out days ago! He thought you were dead!”

“I feel like I’ve been resurrected from the dead,” he croaks out, restlessly tossing beneath the sheets.

“No, he was like seriously freaked out, Taeyong. I haven’t seen him like that before; he was practically hysterical!”

Taeyong finds it hard to visualize a hysterical Jaehyun carrying his seemingly dead body into the ward, but he supposes stranger things have happened. “Well I’m really okay now, just super, super tired. I have no idea what happened, like, I’ve gotten migraines before, but that one was next level bad. I was fine one minute and then all of a sudden,” Taeyong waves his hand in the air nonchalantly from the mountain of blankets. “I was out.”

“You just really scared us," Sicheng counters softly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” Sicheng huffs.

“I’m gonna go let Irene know you’re awake because you have a lot to help her with in order to get ready for the party, and she’s also worried sick about you too." Sicheng's bed squeaks a little when he moves to stand up. He adds, "She can also let Jaehyun know he isn’t a murderer and you’re not dead after all.”

“He wouldn’t care.”

“Taeyong, he looked _ really _ upset. Like, really, really upset. Like ‘my dog died’ kind of upset.” 

Taeyong props himself up, wincing slightly at the strain in his lower back. “Whatever you say, Sicheng.” 

Gripping the bed sheets to balance his feeble upper body, Taeyong watches Sicheng quietly dip out of the room and shut the door behind him. He looks around, noticing that nothing has really changed from how he remembers their shared space, their minimal belongings still tidy and tucked away. Looking down at his bare legs, he again comes to the realization of how absolutely foul he’s gotten over the course of a couple of days without bathing, and gingerly pushes himself off the bed, deciding it’s time for a hot bath. And soap. A lot of soap.

Taeyong takes his time, the servant baths being just one large, white marble pool. Admittedly, this is Taeyong’s favorite part of servant life by far- certainly not worth the bitch work he has to do and separation from his family, but it’s definitely a nice perk either way. The water is always warm, filled with rose scented oil and fresh floral petals. Small jet streams hang from the one side of the bath against the marble wall. He props himself up against the wall with the flowing jet streams, letting the clean water wash over his sweaty body and relaxes as the hot steam rises and kisses his skin. 

Taeyong lays languidly, drifting in and out of consciousness before his mind wanders to his last memory of being awake. With Jaehyun. How he was almost sweet in a way, even a little bit playful.

And then that insane migraine. It’s a little worrying- the whole passing out thing and waking up days later as if it has all happened just mere seconds ago. 

He pulls one arm out of the water and watches the lavender flower petals cling to his skin, mesmerized at the water droplets falling from the tips of his fingers. A sudden panic hits him, Taeyong thinking to himself, ‘_ Am I sick?’ _

_ 'Am I dying?’ _

He pushes the thought from his mind, suddenly feeling pruny and anxious at having been in the bath for so long. What was an hour ago soft, comforting pattering of the jet streams now feels like a loud calamity crashing over his senses. Needing to move, the need to get out of here and be somewhere- anywhere else- suddenly hits him like a bag of bricks, now fully awake and conscious. 

He won’t admit it out loud, but Taeyong is scared.

* * *

The days pass fairly quickly with Taeyong slipping back into his normal routine, only this time he’s actively avoiding the two palace princes like the plague. And to their credit, they give him space. Yuta doesn’t bother him or tease him, and Jaehyun stays hidden away in his room like usual, and for that Taeyong is thankful they’ve managed to read the room and leave him alone.

The morning of Midsummer, Taeyong wakes up feeling like it’s Christmas, only in the summer. 

There’s a serene peacefulness about the palace, quiet, almost ethereal. Sicheng gently wakes him up by shaking his shoulders, and Taeyong thinks that he looks glowing and beautiful in the soft light of morning. The two boys get dressed in a hurry and stumble downstairs to the kitchen where they take part in the most delicious and amazing breakfast Taeyong has ever had in his entire life. The young brunette can’t help but take delight in the pretty pastel decor throughout the interior of the castle. Wreaths now adorn every door, garland with glitter hanging from almost every crevice. 

The rest of the servants especially love Midsummer since they get to actually participate and have fun throughout the day, not just sit around and wait hand and foot on the royal family. The dining room hums with soft chatter and laughter as everyone reaches across one another to grab seconds from the assortment of different breakfast sweets. 

He enjoys a casual breakfast of pancakes with berries and whipped cream, everyone jovial and lighthearted. Irene offers him a cocktail with a giant purple berry floating at the top of the glass he doesn’t recognize, but he declines, not wanting to spend the morning day drunk and suffering a hangover before the festivities. He does however delight in watching her down a couple of the same drinks, face glowing bright red and her speech beginning to slur a little. He doesn’t even mind as she begins to tease him about the time he’s spent between Yuta and Jaehyun, slumping down against his shoulder and lamenting how ‘_ I wish they would pay attention to me like that! _ ’ _ ‘Taeyong, don’t you think Jaehyun is cuuute?’ ‘What’s your secret?!’ _

Taeyong gently props her back up in her chair and assures her there is no secret at all.

When he returns to his room later, he finds a small box on his bed, purple velvet ribbon tied in a neat bow on the very top. He tugs at the fabric, releasing the top of the box, and inside sees a beautiful amethyst bracelet, gemstone sparkling in the mid-morning light. A note is attached to the bottom of the box, Taeyong’s heart soaring at his ability to now read it. 

“_ From your favorite prince, courtesy of your second favorite prince.” _

He smiles to himself, recalling Yuta having mentioned there was something of Jaehyun’s he wanted to give to him the day they had gone shopping and assuming this might be it. He gingerly pulls the bracelet out of the box, letting it shine in the palm of his hand. Tiny rows amethysts are strung along, with a large blood colored ruby near the golden clasp. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, especially for someone who has never in his life worn jewelry. 

Taeyong clutches it to his chest, before staring at it one more time, hoping that it’s not just an illusion of his imagination. Finding the bracelet still very much real to the touch, he clasps it onto his left wrist, shaking it and admiring the rainbow of light reflected in each individual stone. He takes one final glance at his new bracelet before rolling his sleeve down, concealing it from any questioning stares- and especially an interrogation from Sicheng. 

The rest of the day passes agonizingly slow, everyone disappearing to their respective rooms to get ready for the party. Taeyong busies himself with cleaning every nook and cranny of the kitchen area until he’s positive it looks spotless. 

Pleased with his work, he heads to take another leisurely bath to wash off the kitchen floor grime, this time fully allowing himself to relax and soak his body in the sweet flowery aroma until he’s wrinkled and pruny. 

Wrapping himself up in a fluffy bathrobe, and dragging his waterlogged body back to his room, he’s immediately hounded by Sicheng, who is wearing heavy eye makeup, and looks nothing like the chipper soft boy Taeyong’s used to. 

“Taeyong! Taeyong!” He practically shouts. “Come here, sit!”

Taeyong obeys, sitting gingerly on Sicheng’s bed, water dripping from his toes on the wood floor below.

“I’m going to give you a makeover for tonight,” the blonde says bluntly.

Taeyong bites his lower lip in hesitation. He’s never worn makeup in his life, and while the thought sounds appealing, he’s not sure he wants the extra attention it might bring. “I don’t know, Sicheng. I don’t want anything too crazy- I-”

“Oh, come on! Irene gave me some of her stuff. You’ll like it once I’m finished- trust me!” Sicheng tugs at the end of his sleeve. “Don’t you want to look nice and have fun? I’ll make you look hot!”

Taeyong chooses to ignore that comment.

“Here,” Sicheng swats Taeyong’s hip, ushering him to scoot over, before crawling to sit next to him. “Turn towards me and close your eyes,” he commands firmly.

Taeyong obeys, feeling Sicheng begin to dab at his skin with a sponge. It feels- _ sticky _, he thinks.

“Don’t open your eyes!”

“I’m not,” Taeyong whines as the blonde haired boy grips his chin and holds him in place. Sicheng goes to work, swiping powder across his cheekbones with a fluffy brush, and sweeping highlighter across the high points of his face. It tickles slightly, but feels kind of nice at the same time. After about fifteen minutes of having his face manhandled, he feels the cool felt tip of the eyeliner pen scratching across his eyelids, and then Sicheng suddenly releases him. “There. Now you look nice and pretty for later.” He gets up to glance at Sicheng’s work in their little shared mirror, almost wondering who on earth is looking back at him in the reflection. If just a few minutes with some powder and eyeliner was all it took to transform his face like that, Taeyong wanted to wear it _ every _ day.

“You look hot, Yongie.”

Taeyong admires Sicheng’s work, turning his face from side to side to check out how sultry his usually wide, doe eyes now look. 

“Okay okay, you look good, but stop being vain and get dressed!” Sicheng says and hands him his outfit on a hanger. 

He quickly slips into the outfit Yuta purchased for him, and gazes at himself in the mirror once more now that his look is complete, minus his damp hair. He almost can’t believe how nice he looks, between the dark eye makeup and his lavender silk shirt and velvet vest. It’s such a change of pace from his usual plain appearance. 

Sicheng grabs his shoulders from behind. “You look really beautiful.”

Taeyong sucks his breath in at that but doesn't quite believe it either; he’s never in his life felt particularly beautiful. Sure, he could probably be beautiful, but there’s never been the opportunity or need for it anyway. Doyoung always occupied the spot of the beautiful one in their family anyway.

“Everyone just gets really drunk at these parties. It’s the best time of the year with how good the weather feels, and the food, and the alcohol. Totally makes everyone wildly horny, so you could totally get laid tonight if you made an effort.”

“Don’t you need to get dressed too?” Taeyong replies, careful to tug his sleeve over his bracelet and out of sight. 

“Yeah, I will when you leave. Go see Yuta!” Sicheng responds, practically pushing Taeyong out of the door. 

Taeyong makes his way to the ginger prince’s door and enters without even knocking this time.

“Hey! Watch it- I could have been naked in here!” Yuta practically shrieks at him, but Taeyong knows by now that it’s just in jest.

“But you’re not, so crisis avoided!”

“Don’t talk back to me like that, peasant,” Yuta playfully retorts, flicking his finger lightly against Taeyong’s shoulder. Drawing his finger back, the prince gives him a full once-over, Taeyong feeling suddenly like an imposter in his fancy outfit and dark makeup. “You really look amazing, Yong. Wow! And of course, glad to see you up and at it again.”

He feels himself blush slightly under his makeup. “You look nice too,” he replies. Yuta’s in his matching ensemble, long red hair neatly tied back in a matching purple band, and small wisps of his bangs framing his face in an effortlessly handsome way. ‘_ He radiates royalty _’, Taeyong thinks, before he catches himself staring and darts his eyes to a corner of the room. 

“I think I’m ready then. Shall we?” The man holds out his arm for Taeyong to take, leading him down the main stairwell.

The sight before him is nothing short of magical when the two make it outside. Under the starlit sky, the entire castle grounds have been covered in white fabric to create makeshift roads, leading to various areas of the party. What isn’t covered by fabric is instead littered with various multicolored rose petals. There are various tents laid out, covered in fairy lights, with mountains of sweets and snacks, crystal jugs of amber wine stacked so tall, Taeyong has to do a full turn in order to take it all in.

Taeyong watches Yuta remove his shoes and follows suit. It’s weird, being barefoot while outside, but everyone else is doing it too. Yuta grabs his hand and drags him to one of the nearest tented areas, chatting amicably with a woman doling out glasses of dark wine. He feels a bit awkward and out of place just taking in the scenery, but decides some liquid courage would certainly help and downs the first shot of baby pink mystery alcohol Yuta hands to him.

Taeyong clings to Yuta’s side for as long as the prince lets him. That turns out to be not very long, maybe fifteen minutes, before the redheaded man ditches him.

He tosses Taeyong into a rather large group of people, all of which appear to be around his age. Eyes lighting up when he notices Sicheng amongst the bunch, he heads over and sits down next to him under the tent.

He realizes he hasn’t seen Prince Jaehyun even once since he passed out from his record breaking nightmare migraine, and suddenly feels a sense of anxiety at potentially having to face the other man at the party. He doesn’t know why, having realized Jaehyun is maybe just kind of a dick, but not a total monster like he originally thought. 

Lost in thought of his last interaction with the prince, he’s suddenly reminded of a distant memory of being lost and alone as a young boy in his hometown’s tiny market. Visions of a small child’s large and terrified yes searching for his mother amongst throngs of strangers fill his mind. 

Unable to push the unpleasant memory out of his mind, Taeyong’s eyes dart about, mimicking the little lost boy from his memories,, scanning the premise for any sign of his dark haired prince, but no Jaehyun in sight.

Sicheng taps his cheek lightly. “Are you ready to participate in one of the dumbest traditions ever?”

“Uh, I guess. What exactly is it?” Taeyong replies, brushing a disobedient lock of hair behind his ear. It’s starting to get a little hot outside, and his hair just won’t obey the humidity.

“It’s a traditional game. Anyone participating is blindfolded, spun around, then partakes in a dancing competition. Last man and woman standing are crowned the Midsummer Prince and Princess. Simple really, but it’s really, really difficult too. Half of these guys are already drunk, so you can operate under the assumption that you’ve already eliminated a lot of your competition. They’ll start dropping like flies after five minutes; it _ always _ happens.”

“And have you ever won?”

Sicheng laughs softly. “No, but I would like to!”

Taeyong looks about the group sitting, everyone with smiles on their faces and drink in hand. He’s suddenly thankful he’s still feeling sober enough that he won’t immediately fall down and embarrass himself publicly. He watches as an older woman clad in a pale blue robe approaches the group and claps her hands loudly, signaling for everyone to be silent. The bottom of her robe catches against a sea of pale pink rose petals as she paces back and forth in front of everyone.

The ambient music ceases, and she begins.

“Ah, our dear dancers. I am so pleased at the turnout this year, and cannot wait to see which of you will be crowned the Midsummer Prince and Princess.” She waves her hand at a man over to the side, who approaches the group and hands a basket to a girl sitting towards the front. “Pass that around and pull out your own blindfold. You’ll need to tie it yourself, and be careful not to cheat. I can of course tell if you’re thinking about it.”

When the basket makes its way to Taeyong, he pulls out the black fabric and dutifully ties it into a knot at the back of his head, awaiting further instruction.

The woman’s voice booms again after several more minutes. “Wonderful! Stand up everyone!” 

Taeyong stands up on wobbly legs, the loss of his sight proving to be more challenging than he thought it would be. His arms flail out to the side to assist him in balancing, and he knocks against someone to his right. He murmurs a quick ‘_sorry_,’ and tries to focus on next steps for the game ahead.

“Move forward,” she commands. As he does, he feels someone else grip his shoulders, holding him in place and suddenly, he’s being turned around quickly and roughly in their arms over, and over, and over for what feels like an eternity. Finally, the spinning stops, and Taeyong stumbles slightly in dizziness. 

“Music!” She yells once more, and the dead silence of the evening is shattered, music filling the castle grounds once more.

He’s nervous, not sure of what to exactly expect or how everyone will be dancing. The same pair of firm arms that spun him around are suddenly guiding him into place, his bare feet trudging along and crushing the soft petals underneath in nervousness. He feels his arms being manhandled like a doll until he’s clasping two unfamiliar hands beside him, and idly wonders if one of them belongs to Sicheng. His palms feel sweaty, clammy in anticipation.

“Begin!” She yells once more, the music picking up the pace. Suddenly, everything is moving all too quickly, and the body to his side is pushing him to the left, as everyone begins to dance around in circles, holding hands. It’s not long before Taeyong hears loud cries and laughter, assuming that someone has already fallen and lost their conquest of Midsummer royalty. 

He dances and dances until suddenly the hand holding his to the right pulls away, and he’s careful not to trip over whoever it is falling to the ground with a solid ‘_ thunk _’. Everyone continues on, music increasing in speed. A few people in the background holler and cheer the dancers on, and Taeyong finds himself smiling.

It feels like an eternity of just dancing, partners to his side dropping, before another pair of hands find his and the cycle repeats. Taeyong feels beads of sweat trickling down his neck, but pushes on, wondering how many people are left. The crisp night air feels amazing whipping against his skin, encouraging and pushing him to keep going.

Just as he feels like collapsing, the same woman from earlier claps once more, yelling “It’s over!” 

Realization suddenly hits him that he’s won. He’s never won anything in his life. 

Taeyong’s breathless, sure that his face is red and makeup runny and he instantly regrets making any effort in this competition. Someone pulls his blindfold off from behind, and he finds himself standing face to face, holding hands with the final girl. She looks up at him, giggling and eyes sparkling in mirth. It feels absolutely magical.

“Our Summer Prince and Princess,” the blue robed woman says sweetly. She waltzes towards them and places a crown of flowers on the girl’s head. Afterward, she tucks a singular pink peony behind Taeyong’s ear and brushes his bangs back in a motherly gesture.

Feeling slightly tipsy, but exhilarated, Taeyong breaks the physical contact with the newly crowned Summer Princess and stumbles back towards Sicheng, plopping down on the ground in exhaustion. 

“Oh, beautiful prince, congratulations to you!” Sicheng gathers up several loose flower petals on the ground and blows them right into Taeyong’s face. “Too bad your makeup is smudged now though!” The brunette grabs Sicheng’s arm, jokingly play fighting with the other boy, until he turns his head and catches Prince Jaehyun’s attention from across the lawn. 

Jaehyun smiles at him and Taeyong looks back in pure happiness, smudged makeup be damned. And that’s when it hits him like a freight train, that perhaps he _ likes _ Jaehyun. Perhaps the alcohol and adrenaline rush is giving him a sense of crystal clear clarity, and perhaps it’s a terribly stupid idea to feel such a way, but Taeyong can’t tear his eyes away from the other man, and certainly can’t bring himself to go to him either in some sort of torturous catch-22. 

Like the mind reader Taeyong suspects Sicheng is, the other boy blurts out, “Bad idea, Yongie.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally tears his gaze away from Jaehyun.

“I think you do though, considering the goofy look on your face staring at Jaehyun like that. Don’t even get an inkling about him in that way.”

“You’re honestly insane if you seriously think I’m looking at him like that!”

“Your face says it all,” Sicheng warns. “Don’t, Taeyong. Seriously- just don’t. He’s being kind to you right now because he probably just wants something, but he’s seriously the most hot and cold person on this Earth, and I don’t want to see you get hurt or upset when his mood inevitably changes for the worse.” 

“Well, you don’t have to worry, because there’s nothing like that going on.”

“Remember what I said before. Be careful with them. You’re like the wheel of good fortune right now,” Sicheng twirls his finger in the air, pointing upwards. “You’re at the highest of highs, but the thing about the wheel of fortune is that it always, _ always _ has to come back down. Just make sure you don’t crash when you do”

Taeyong finds his mood souring, smile slipping, but Sicheng continues, “We are not the same as them. They never forget that, so neither should you.”

Taeyong watches, realization sinking in, as Jaehyun turns and walks away, disappearing from his line of sight and into the crowd of partygoers.

He doesn’t get much time to dwell on Sicheng’s words, before Yuta comes barreling back into his presence, loud and raucous as he always is. Taeyong scoffs a little as he notices a crowd of teenage girls hanging back within safe distance from the red haired prince, giggling into one another’s ear and pointing towards them. Yuta having a fan club isn't particularly shocking, but definitely amusing nonetheless. 

Yuta doesn’t appear to notice or even care as he plucks a glass of champagne from a lady standing next to them in a wired dress, holding what appears to be fifty different glasses of champagne in little candle holders surrounding her body and hands it to Sicheng.

“Neat huh?” Yuta goes in for a second flute and hands it to Taeyong. “Drink up, my babies!”

Taeyong watches as Yuta takes a third glass for himself, tipping his head back and downing the entire contents in one go. 

Sicheng rolls his eyes, and Taeyong can practically feel the snark radiating off the other boy. 

“Congratulations, Taeyong!” Yuta reaches over and clinks his empty glass against Taeyong’s still full one. “Who knew that skinny little body of yours was hiding such intense stamina and endurance! Well done.”

Taeyong sheepishly smiles and begins to sip at the champagne flute. “Thanks, Yuta.”

He closes his eyes, mind wandering again as the alcohol begins to buzz in his blood. He feels so content, happy, at peace. Everything about this night is just simply perfect and wonderful. He doesn’t even mind Yuta and Sicheng’s bickering back and forth; it’s just mere buzzing against the starry night sky and taste of fluffy cotton candy some random stranger places in his hand. 

When Taeyong opens his eyes again, his eyes immediately find Jaehyun once again by fate and he can’t help but fixate on him. Yuta must notice too, and pulls them both up off the ground, steering them in the opposite direction. He gives one final glance upwards in the dark haired prince’s direction, Jaehyun standing on the top level of the marbled outdoor stairs, back turned, and surrounded by a group of other well dressed people that Taeyong assumes to also be royalty. His ears pick up on Yuta politely excusing themselves from Sicheng, Yuta’s elbow digging into his side. 

“Let’s get another drink, shall we, Yong? You are way too sober!”

He gives a quick nod, letting himself be dragged over to another crowded bar area, the other man's arm now around his shoulders. “I’ll get you something sweet,” he shouts over the loud area full of loud people. "You look like you like sweet things."

He keeps peering back over at Jaehyun’s back, a little pang in his chest at the sight of him flanking the side of a woman wearing a stunningly gorgeous gown covered in silver sparkles. 

He swings his head back to Yuta’s attention, hearing the other snap his fingers. “Hey! Pay attention to me,” Yuta smirks. “And try this.” He passes another champagne flute to Taeyong, this time filled with a pastel blue liquid. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a blue drink before,” he states curiously. “What’s in it?”

Yuta shrugs, and Taeyong takes a tentative sip. True to Yuta's word, it’s sweet, tasting like blueberries and lemonade. It tastes like a cloud on a spring day.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Very much so,” Taeyong can feel his speech begin to slur slightly. He hears approaching footsteps and feels Yuta shifting at his side, calling out to someone in the distance.

“Jaehyun, who is this?” Taeyong’s eyes snap open at the sound of a woman’s voice.

He looks up. ‘_ Oh fuck _,’ he thinks, seeing Jaehyun and the mystery woman appear right before them. She turns to look at him questioningly, a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised.

Taeyong glances between Jaehyun and the woman at his side. He’s handsome as usual up close. She’s gorgeous. 

The mystery woman is dressed in a long, silver gown that’s covered in glittering gemstones, all the way down to her hands. She looks like she’s been kissed by the night sky, and every time she moves slightly from side to side, the gown sparkles brightly like the stars. Her hair is deep red and long, cascading down her elegant, slim back that’s exposed, and striking face painted in thick, dark eyeliner and blood red lips to match her hair.

She looks familiar, in a way that Taeyong can’t quite place his finger on it. It makes him uncomfortable, unsettled in a way.

“Taeyong,” Yuta grunts. “This is Princess Jessica.”

“Ah, our dear Yuta. Village drunk, I see.”

“I need to be if I’m expected to be around you," Yuta snaps back and Taeyong doesn't mess the venom in his voice.

“Hello,” Taeyong bows slightly, not sure of the proper protocol, assuming she’s a foreign princess, having never seen or heard of her during his time at the castle. “It’s nice to meet you.” He doesn’t offer her a compliment on her beauty, doesn’t want to. He’s sure she’s already had countless words of praise already.

Jaehyun coughs slightly, not giving the princess a chance to respond. “Jessica, this was lovely seeing you like this, but I must take my leave now.” He offers her a slight bow.

The way the two interact is slightly awkward, and Taeyong cant help but wonder what their relationship to one another is, if anything at all. He wonders if perhaps Princess Jessica is Jaehyun’s ex-girlfriend, or maybe betrothed. Nobody’s ever mentioned Jaehyun being engaged, but he knows that often royalty are matched from birth for political purposes, with little regard to feelings or love. Taeyong sneaks a glance at Jessica’s hands, noticing several ornate rings adorning her slim fingers, but none on her wedding finger. 

The entire atmosphere makes Taeyong feel worthless in her presence. Sicheng’s words haunt him for every second he allows himself to look upon her, feeling foolish at ever smiling at Jaehyun like that earlier.

Jaehyun would never want him like that- could never want him like that. He is a prince, handsome, important, powerful. He belongs with someone of equal standing, to push him and force him to grow. Not someone like Taeyong who could only bring him down. This woman is a glittering diamond, and he feels like nothing more than a pile of dirt in her shadowy presence, sweaty with smudged makeup. Suddenly he misses the simplicity of sneaking off Johnny back home. Nice Johnny. Laid back Johnny. Very uncomplicated Johnny.

“Oh, Jaehyun. We were just starting to have fun! Now you’ve brought me Yuta and this lovely boy too. Perhaps you’d like to stay and talk for a bit, Taeyong?” Her dark eyes bore into his and sparkle even brighter than her dress. 

Yuta and Jaehyun both cut her off with a resounding, “No!” before Taeyong even has a chance to react. Jaehyun clears his throat again, “Taeyong, I wanted to talk to you. Alone.” Jaehyun’s hand snakes his way behind Taeyong’s back, as he begins leading them from the stairs and over towards a more secluded area away from the noise. He doesn't even pause at Jessica's protests in the background.

They stand under a quiet lavender canopy with fairy lights that twinkle on and off and Taeyong's heart feels like it may burst out of his chest in anxiety. 

“Our enchanting summer prince,” Jaehyun smiles at him and plucks the pink peony from his brown hair. “You did so well.” 

“And a true prince,” Taeyong sing-songs back, running his hand through his hair where his prized flower is now missing. It’s probably just the alcohol, but he’s feeling like maybe he can be playful with Jaehyun like this.

Jaehyun hums softly, twirling the flower between his fingers. “It looks like you’re playing dress up.”

Taeyong’s heart thuds in his chest, unsure of the meaning behind the comment, whether it be good or bad, but decides to play along. “Can you believe I’ll go to my room at the end of the night and take this off and wash my face, and the spell will wear off?”

“You’re beautiful.”

The way Jaehyun calls him beautiful is flat and direct, as if he were stating the weather, and Taeyong’s mind spins as if that were better than any flirtatious inflection behind it. He’s the second person to call him beautiful tonight after Sicheng, but the way Jaehyun says it gives him butterflies in a way that contrasts with how Sicheng just makes him roll his eyes.

“Dance with me?”

“I-,” Taeyong chokes out.

“Why not?”

“Because everyone will see us? And wonder why you’re dancing with me?”

“But you’re a prince tonight, too,” Jaehyun offers back. He takes Taeyong’s jaw in one hand gently, the other threading the stem of the peony back into his hair. 

Taeyong scoffs, “Don’t be silly. You know what I mean!” Sicheng’s earlier warning sticks to his mind as if the other boy had opened up his head and glued the words straight into his skull. He can’t escape the ugly truth, no matter how soft Jaehyun’s fingers feel against his face and how sweetly he looks at him under the foggy moonlight. 

Before Taeyong can reject him, Jaehyun swoops him into his arms, a hand placed casually on the small of his back, the other intertwining their fingers together. “So let’s not dance in front of everyone then if you care?” Jaehyun pauses, and then adds, “If you haven’t noticed yet, I like to do what I want regardless.”

Taeyong nods against Jaehyun’s chest, feeling the other clutch his hand harder. “Ah, Yuta told me about this,” Jaehyun states, turning Taeyong’s hand over in his grasp to admire the familiar bracelet. 

“I hope it’s okay- he just left it in my room, but I has a feeling it might be yours.”

“I wanted you to have it.”

“It’s really pretty,” Taeyong whispers, catching the reflection of the ruby stone against his bony wrist as he sneaks a peak at his hand clasped with the other man’s. “I love it.”

“It’s yours. You can have it forever.” Taeyong looks up at Jaehyun through his lashes, curiosity dotting his expression. Why on earth does Jaehyun want him to have his bracelet- surely it’s worth a fortune? As if sensing Taeyong’s confusion through his wide eyed expression, Jaehyun adds, “It’s not really mine actually, it’s just been sitting in my room for ages. I’m glad it has a more appreciative owner now.”

Taeyong offers a soft, “Thank you,” and gives the prince a closed lip smile. 

They move quietly amongst the background noise, music faint in the background and faded sounds of laughter filtering into Taeyong’s ears. Taeyong’s almost positive his hand is sweaty in the other’s grasp, feeling like his face is on fire under Jaehyun’s dazzling scrutiny. 

“Taeyong,” Jaehyun whispers softly against his ear. He freezes, makes no move to respond. “I’m glad to see you’re okay.”

He loosens a bit, but his heart is thudding rapidly in his chest at Jaehyun’s closeness. He clears his throat and offers back, “I’m fine. I get headaches all the time, but that one was just particularly bad.”

Taeyong shuffles closer to him, nose almost brushing against the other’s neck and getting a whiff of how good he smells. 

“I didn’t get the chance to thank you earlier. You know, for making sure I was okay after I passed out. I don’t… I don’t really know the details but, thank you for making sure I was looked after.”

Jaehyun frowns. “You fainted and weren’t breathing.”

As serious as his statement is, Taeyong can’t help but let out a slight laugh. “Yeah, I heard you thought you accidentally killed me.”

“Well, if it got out that I killed one of my staff, I’m sure that wouldn’t reflect too well on me, don’t you think?” Taeyong deflates slightly in Jaehyun’s arms.

“Hey, I don’t mean it like that. You really scared me!”

“What do you want from me?” Taeyong blurts out. 

“Excuse me?” Jaehyun pulls away to look down into Taeyong’s eyes questioningly.

“Why? Why are you suddenly so nice to me? Why are you dancing with me like this? Why are you giving me presents? I am nothing and you are everything; this is an equation that just doesn’t make sense to me.”

“You’re not nothing.”

“To you, I am,” Taeyong whispers softly.

“Don’t make assumptions. You’re wrong,” Jaehyun plainly states.

Taeyong sighs, deciding to accept Jaehyun’s rebuttal. The taller man continues, “I think you are perhaps the single most intriguing person I have met in a really long time.”

“Why is that?”

“I- I don’t know.”

Taeyong considers himself a lot of things, but intriguing is not one of them. Neat. Orderly. Reliable. A little boring. Pretty plain. Not intriguing. 

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to.”

Jaehyun tightens his grip on Taeyong’s waist, pulling him closer. They’ve been gone for what seems like ages, yet mere seconds at the same time as if they are in an alternate dimension where time merely ceases to exist. 

Not wanting the conversation to die there, Taeyong pipes up, “This is so pretty. I wish my brothers could see it.”

“You have brothers?” Jaehyun glances back down into his eyes, and Taeyong wonders how it’s taken him this long to notice what long, thick eyelashes the other has. 

Taeyong nods against Jaehyun’s shoulder. “Two. One older and one younger.”

“Ah,” Jaehyun murmurs.

“You’re an only child, right?”

Jaehyun stiffens a bit, rests his chin on the crown of Taeyong’s soft brown hair. “Now I am.” Taeyong is sure if he wasn’t sweaty before, he is now. “I had a younger sister.”

Taeyong searches the caverns of his mind, trying to recall a time when Sicheng or anyone else had mentioned Jaehyun having a sister. He comes up blank.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be. She died a long time ago, when we were both really young.”

Taeyong, unsure of whether he should pry further, or if he’d just upset Jaehyun, decides not to push it. If Jaehyun wants to talk about it, he will, is something the brunette has learned about the other man in their time spent together. Taeyong instead busies himself with rubbing reassuring small circles into Jaehyun’s back. 

Suddenly, Jaehyun pushes him away, Taeyong missing the warmth of his embrace. 

“Ah, I need to go for a bit. My father will be looking for me.” 

Taeyong is instantly curious, not knowing much of anything about the High King- only that he is never around. Jaehyun has never even once mentioned him; his family is indeed a mystery, either very scarce, or seemingly nonexistent at all. 

“Oh, okay.” Taeyong watches Jaehyun watch him.

“Don’t leave. Don’t leave until I find you again.”

“Okay then- I won’t.” Jaehyun gives him a slight nod, and walks away. Taeyong watches his figure disappear, the noises of the ongoing party whooshing back to his senses and the illusion with Prince Jaehyun is shattered, reality suddenly resuming her ongoing game as if the two had been playing chess and she had just declared checkmate.

He waits and waits and Jaehyun never comes back. Growing frustrated and a little upset, he decides to bail. In the aftermath of the revelation about Jaehyun’s dead sister, he wanders about the castle grounds, scanning for any sign of Sicheng. The night has already been eventful enough, and Taeyong would prefer at this point to just settle down, nursing another one of those sugary pink cocktails, and people watch so it can end on a beautiful note and not a sour one. When he spots his blonde friend, he makes a beeline for him. 

“Hey, stranger. Where have you been?” Sicheng grasps his hand, swinging it playfully. Taeyong can tell the other boy is tipsy on alcohol, his mood happy and festive. Taeyong suddenly wonders how late it is.

“Oh, just around.”

Sicheng winks at him, “Whatever you say.”

That becomes a thing between the two of them- _ whatever you say _. I know you’re hiding something, but I won’t press you on it.

And that’s when he catches him out of the corner of his eye yet again, almost choking on his drink. Prince Jaehyun, standing on an upper balcony, looking devastatingly beautiful and absolutely not talking to anyone who looks like the High King. Princess Jessica is holding his hand, while another beautiful young woman stands Jaehyun’s other side, learning in and giving his neck a kiss. The way she kisses him is chaste, but intimate enough that Taeyong feels a stab at his heartstrings. She’s just as beautiful as Jessica, long dark hair overflowing a similarly glittery gown of gold in contrast to Jessica’s silver. Taeyong wants to look away, knowing this isn’t a scene he or really anyone should be watching, but he can’t.

Two beautiful women showering the young Prince with affection. Just three beautiful, privileged people existing gorgeously and unfairly in front of the rest of the world like that.

Taeyong feels his face heat up, heart racing as the woman in the gold gown’s hand reaches out to grasp at Jaehyun’s jawline.

He forces himself to look away- doesn’t want to see what happens next even if he’s dying of some sick and masochistic curiosity. He’s seen enough. He hates himself for feeling even an ounce of jealousy, but it’s practically impossible after Jaehyun had just spent the past hour seemingly flirting with _ him _. Lying to him about coming back.

Suddenly Sicheng snaps his fingers in front of his face. “Hey! Earth to Taeyong! I’m talking to you!”

“Sorry!” Taeyong apologizes, and turns his full attention on Sicheng. Yes, he can focus on Sicheng. Anything to erase the scene of Jaehyun with the two beautiful women from his mind. “What did you say?”

“I said- your drink is almost empty. Want another?”

He may not be able to induce extreme short term memory loss, but he can definitely get so drunk he doesn’t have to think about it anymore. “Totally.” He tosses the remaining bits of liquid in his glass back, grabbing at the next alcoholic medicine that Sicheng holds out for him.

The two toss back drink after drink, and somewhere amongst the time, Yuta joins them, infuriatingly chipper and Taeyong thinks, ‘_ how dare he be so happy when I’m so clearly miserable? _’. The world begins to spin, and Taeyong is so, so drunk as the alcohol courses through his veins.

He decides he won’t let that blip in the night ruin an otherwise perfect evening. The thought of Jaehyun taking those two women back to his room later definitely, most certainly doesn’t weigh heavy on his brain.

* * *

  
  


Morning comes, sweeping the night away and all of the magic fairy dust that had been sprinkled upon the castle.

Taeyong wakes with a raging headache, not having felt this hungover in literal years. He doesn’t even remember getting back inside his room, much less falling asleep, and he groans out at how his teeth feel fuzzy, accompanied by a rager of a headache. He stretches, realizing he’s still in the same clothes as the night before.

Horrified, he swipes a hand across his greasy face and realizes he’s still in the same makeup too.

_ Fuck! _

Taeyong crawls out of bed, feeling utterly miserable and makes his way to the shared washroom area. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he doesn’t like what he sees anymore, but he supposes nobody with a hangover this fierce ever would. He quickly washes up and heads back, stripping off last night’s clothes and memories and sliding back into bed, falling asleep to Sicheng’s gentle snoring across the room.

He wakes for the second time that day to Sicheng shaking his shoulders.

“Wake up, Yongie!”

Taeyong turns away from the other boy, responding, “Don’t wanna.”

“You must.”

“I refuse.”

“Get up! You need to eat something! And we have chores to do!” Taeyong groans, work being the last thing on his very fragile mind at the moment. 

“I’m not hungry and I’m too sick to work.”

“Hangovers are not an excuse to dip out on duty,” Sicheng scoffs. 

_ Fuck Sicheng. Fuck Sicheng and his rules and self righteousness. How is this guy not hungover too? _

“Come on.” The blonde helps him to his feet and waits patiently while he gets dressed and washes his face. “We’re just gonna go down and help prepare dinner.”

_ I slept until dinner?! _

“Jesus, Taeyong. I didn’t realize you had that much to drink until it was too late. You were so drunk!”

“I’m beginning to realize that, but I don’t really remember it.” Taeyong pauses, feeling remnants of last night’s alcohol begin to sweat out of his body beneath his clothing. “Hey…” he begins. “How did I even get back last night?”

“Yuta tried to carry you but he was too drunk and he dropped you almost immediately. Actually, it was kind of funny at first but then I was really worried when you didn’t move. I thought you might have died _ again! _ Heh. Anyway, Jaehyun picked you up and carried your drunk ass back up. That’s now twice he’s lugged you around like a rag doll while you’re out of it come to think of it.”

_ Jaehyun? _

He’s too lost in his thoughts, desperately trying to remember Jaehyun of all people picking him up and carrying him to bed but Sicheng just keeps droning on. 

“Beautiful Taeyong, the damsel in distress!” He makes a dramatic gesture, tilting his head back and feigning illness.

“Cut it out! I already feel bad enough!” Taeyong feebly begins chopping a bunch of purple carrots, wanting desperately to be back in the comfort of his bed, hiding away from the world and busy not imagining every single possible embarrassing scenario of what he may have said or done while blackout drunk. He really, really, really hopes he didn’t blurt out anything about Princess Jessica- and especially not anything about her and that other woman kissing Jaehyun. Being wasted and babbling nonsense in front of Jaehyun- bad. Being wasted and appearing jealous or interested in Jaehyun- extremely bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive any typos & wanted to get this out asap. Thank you to anyone who has read, left comments, or kudos as always.


	6. Cinque

“But why?”

“I’m feeling generous,” Jaehyun smirks and tosses Taeyong a small velvet sack. “And I’m in a good mood, so don’t question it.”

Several weeks after the palace Midsummer party, things return to about as normal as ever.

Jaehyun goes back to brooding in his room. Taeyong returns to dealing with Yuta’s antics on a daily basis. He doesn’t see the other prince very often, and during the little time they spend in one another’s presence, neither mentions anything about dancing closely or Taeyong’s drunken nonsense. It’s as if none of it ever happened in the first place. 

And Taeyong’s relieved especially for that last part, because he fully intends to avoid ever knowing what truly happened after getting wasted and being carried to his room. But he still can’t deny how not being around Jaehyun begins to eat at him, how often he finds his thoughts wandering to the handsome prince.

But today, Jaehyun had sent a note to Taeyong that morning to come see him downstairs in the throne room. It’s not somewhere Taeyong or any of the rest of the palace servants find themselves very often, so the request had seemed odd when he’d read it over his bowl of lukewarm oatmeal. In fact, he’d only really been in there once and it was a brief visit at that.

When he’d wandered in thirty minutes later, he half expected Jaehyun to be spread out on one of the marbled thrones, looking smug and asking for him to do something menial just to mess with him. Only he hadn’t been, and was instead bent over a desk in the corner writing something down furiously with an ink quill.

And instead of being asked for something stupid, Jaehyun had looked up from his desk and asked him blankly if he’d like to take a trip home and see his family. For a singular day.

Taeyong turns the sack over in his hand and hears the jingling of coins from within. He shoots the other a second questioning look and Jaehyun shrugs nonchalantly.

“Why are you giving me money?”

“Do you think I have some sort of ulterior motive?” Jaehyun walks past him and drops a small envelope into a box against the wall, shoulder slightly brushing against his. “Just take it. And if you need to know, I have something to take care of nearby your village and thought you'd like to come with me. Of course,” he teases, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to though.”

Taeyong jumps, immediately protesting with a, “_ yes, yes, I want to go! _”

“Then get ready; we’re leaving in twenty.”

Taeyong races up the stairs, throwing a fresh pair of clothes and toothbrush into a small bag, and leaves Sicheng a message that he’d be back the next day. His chest heaves at both the sudden exercise along with excitement as he sits down on the bottom stair to catch his breath. Time seems to pass so slowly here and it feels like an eternity since he’s been home. Feels like an eternity since being able to hug his brothers or prepare dinner for his father. 

Jaehyun joins him shortly and ushers him into the carriage awaiting them, this one much bigger and nicer than the one used to bring him to the palace the first time. 

They make the long trek back towards Taeyong’s home, the journey eerily familiar, except this time, it’s in the opposite direction from before. Jaehyun informs him that he will be dropped off at home and can stay the night there as well, while Jaehyun plans to stay closer into town. He doesn’t elaborate on what exactly he’s there for, and Taeyong doesn’t really care anyway if truth be told. 

When they pull up to Taeyong’s home, he jingles the carriage door handle, furiously trying to get out, Jaehyun chuckling and just saying “_ patience, patience, Taeyong _.” Finally, one of the drivers unlocks it and frees him, before Taeyong stumbles out and sprints directly towards the front door, finding it too locked. 

He lets out a frustrated sigh, circling the small house and peering into the windows and finding it empty.

“They’re not here,” he muses miserably and kicks a patch of dirt on the ground while Jaehyun peers into the window beside him as well, not having any luck either.

“We can wait.”

Taeyong sits down on a wooden bench outside of his old home near the dirt pathway towards the road. As much as he hates to admit it, he feels embarrassed. Ashamed even. He doesn’t want Jaehyun to see any of this, and that realization makes him sick because he loves his family and his old life. And then he just feels guilty. Why should he care what Jaehyun thinks anyway if all he has is just due to the luck of the draw with the family he was born into?

But if Jaehyun is passing judgement, he isn’t saying anything at least.

He turns to look at the black haired prince and thinks what a ridiculous pair they must make right now sitting on a dusty bench in front of a tiny country house in clean, silken clothes that cost more than probably everything that belongs to Taeyong’s family put together.

“Sorry,” Taeyong mutters.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“For wasting time. I have no idea where they’d be.”

Jaehyun just sits there. Quietly. Still looking regal and very out of place in their current surroundings. 

After about a minute of silence, Jaehyun hums, “I don’t mind waiting with you.”

Taeyong rests his elbow on his knee, trying to think if there’s any reason in particular why nobody would be home and suddenly he jumps up almost in panic thinking the worst.

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun asks.

Taeyong paces a little in front of the other, “I’m just worried, s’all.”

Jaehyun reaches out to him and pulls him closer, back towards the bench. “I’m sure everything is fine, so stop worrying over something that most likely hasn’t even happened.” Taeyong nods and sits back down, closer this time to Jaehyun, and lets the other sling an arm over his shoulders in reassurance.

Moments later, Taeyong’s ears perk up when he hears someone approaching from the back of the house and he whips his head around, expecting to maybe see his father or even Mark. Instead he sees just about the last person he’d expected and someone he hadn’t really expected to see ever again for the rest of his adult life.

“Johnny?” He says, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Taeyong?”

It’s the same old Johnny he’s always known. Tall and lanky, almost to the point of being goofy, and dressed in his usual flannel button down and cotton work pants.

He can’t help the smile that forms on his face. Even though it feels like ages since he’d last spent time with Johnny, he can’t forget how much seeing a friendly face brings him joy in this moment. 

“Taeyong, I thought you were working for the royal-” Johnny stops, eyes drifting to Jaehyun sitting beside him, arm still draped over Taeyong’s back and then hesitates. “What are you doing back home?”

Taeyong shrugs. “Mini vacation I suppose.” The small brunette slides off the bench and subsequently out of Jaehyun’s arm, practically skipping toward Johnny, letting himself be pulled into a warm hug from the taller man. 

“Well, I’m pleasantly surprised to see you,” Johnny pulls away and smiles down at him running his hand across Taeyong’s reddening cheek. “It’s always good to see you. And you look so pretty too in your nice clothes.”

Taeyong feels practically giddy at the compliment, and he can’t help but flashback to the last time he saw Johnny. Which like most times he spent with Johnny in the past, involved the two of them sneaking off, finding themselves naked and entangled intimately. “And not that I’m unhappy to see you at all, really the opposite, but do you know where everyone is?”

“Oh, yeah. They should be back any minute now; Mark and Doyoung just took your dad into town and you know Doyoung can’t do anything on his own. I’m just stopping by to drop off firewood from my dad’s.”

Taeyong feels his heart rate quicken, mind immediately jumps to the worst possible scenario like he had earlier as if Johnny’s words had confirmed it. “Did something happen?”

“No, nothing happened. Just a regular check-up.” He must sense Taeyong’s anxiety because he then adds, “So don’t worry about it like you worry about everything. You’re always such a ball of nerves.”

Before he can retort, he hears the bench creak and Jaehyun clear his throat from behind him. “Oh, Johnny. This is Prince Jaehyun by the way.” And he almost wishes he hadn’t even bothered mentioning that, because Johnny immediately removes himself from their embrace and bows in Jaehyun’s direction. “You don’t need to do that to him.”

“He can do whatever he likes,” came Jaehyun’s deep voice from behind.

Taeyong rolls his eyes and senses the return of Jaehyun’s frosty mood. Before he can return with a feisty remark, he hears his brother, Mark, yelling his name in the distance a split second before being tackled to the ground by him.

“Yoooo, Yong! What are you doing here?” Mark sprawls on top of him while Doyoung brings up the rear, but not even bothering to kneel down and join them on the ground. 

“Yes, what _ are _you doing here?” Doyoung adds from above before lending a hand towards his brothers to help them up.

Taeyong dusts off his shirt, looking up at the two of them and willing himself not to cry. “I’m just here for a day, but I’m so happy to see you!” He turns and sees his dad making his way towards the commotion and reaches out to envelope everyone into a group hug, Johnny and Jaehyun awkwardly standing off to the side.

After the hug wears off, Mark and Doyoung look back at Jaehyun questioningly before the synapses in their brains seem to fire and recognize him as their crown prince. Mark immediately dives into a polite bow similar to Johnny’s, while Doyoung gives him the laziest, half bend Taeyong’s ever seen in his life. He snorts, thinking that Doyoung’s attitude certainly hasn’t changed a bit. 

Not wanting any sort of confrontation between his cooler brother and his current employer, Taeyong ushers his family back into the house and promises he’ll join them in just a second.

“Who is he?” Jaehyun immediately asks when he returns back outside.

“Who’s who?”

“That guy,” Jaehyun’s dark head nods in the direction of Johnny, now off in the distance unloading a sack of wood from his rusty wheelbarrow.

“That’s just Johnny.”

“I gathered that’s his name,” Jaehyun responds flatly.

“He’s an old family friend,” Taeyong shrugs. “Why d’you ask?”

Jaehyun’s eyes flicker in an unreadable expression before turning back to face Taeyong and ignores the question. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning to come get you. I hope you enjoy your time with your family.” 

Taeyong nods as the raven haired prince turns his back and begins his descent back down towards his ride.

Jaehyun turns around and quips back, “And don’t try to sneak off, because it won’t work!” 

“I wasn’t planning to,” Taeyong lies a little, though he can tell Jaehyun’s being playful. He won’t deny it’s absolutely crossed his mind, even though compared to his old burning desire to escape the palace life nearly every second of his waking existence, he’s ashamed to admit he’s gotten quite used to it over as time goes on. But he’d rather not dare play with fire by defying the two palace guards that remain behind, assuming they were there to ensure Taeyong remains on his best behavior.

The trio of brothers and their father enjoy their time at home together, the first time in so long as a whole once again. Taeyong shows off his newfound ability to read, his father practically beaming as he sits in his usual armchair listening to Taeyong read a passage out of one of Mark’s school books. 

Johnny later joins them for a dinner that Taeyong insists on cooking, even though everyone had begged him to relax. His former flame sits next to him, hand on his thigh throughout most of the dinner, hidden from everyone else’s sight and it stirs Taeyong’s insides the entire time, before Johnny excuses himself home after everyone is finished eating, compliments to their brilliant little chef Taeyong.

That night, Taeyong tosses in his bed, willing himself to rest, but finding it difficult after sleeping in a much softer, more comfortable space in his room back at the palace. As soon as he feels his eyes begin to droop, there’s a soft knocking at the window next to his bed. He glances over, old habits rearing their head, knowing the motions exactly. 

The brunette leans over, meeting a set of dark eyes and a mop of hair through the window. 

“Johnny-” he hesitates a little, knowing what the other wants.

“Please, just come out?”

Taeyong purses his lips tightly into a thin line, knowing this isn’t a good idea at all, but not really making an effort to stop himself.

“Alright.” 

The bed squeaks under his weight as he gets up to throw on a pair of long pants and laces up his boots for the crisp night. He had forgotten how much colder it was back home in comparison to the palace.

He sees Johnny, imposing in height but never in the way he looks at Taeyong, the way he smiles sweetly as Taeyong approaches him. 

Taeyong shivers slightly under his threadbare sweater, his arms wrapped around himself.

“Missed you,” Johnny says before pulling him flush against his body and leaning down to place an open mouthed kiss against his neck. It’s routine, the way his body reacts to the familiarity of Johnny’s kisses, sloppy and wet, their mouths smacking loudly against one another. He doesn’t even realize he’s kissing the other man at first, just gives back into the same muscle memory his body is accustomed to.

Another minute of Johnny licking hungrily into his mouth before he’s being backed up against the wall of his house, Johnny’s knee digging into his groin almost painfully. He worries for a split second, wondering if any of Jaehyun’s hired guards are spying on what he’s currently doing. It’d certainly be embarrassing to be caught like this. And not only that, he definitely doesn’t want Jaehyun to hear about it either. 

Something in his mind screams at him to stop, that this is a very, _very_ bad idea. It shouldn’t really matter, being that he and Johnny were never anything more than two people engaging in casual sex, but it feels _wrong _now somehow.

“Wanted to do this from the second I saw you today,” Johnny groans into his ear.

“Johnny,” Taeyong breathes, hitching a little as he feels the larger man slide his hands under his top and brush against his nipples, quickly hardening from the cold and extra attention the other man is lavishing upon them.

Johnny doesn’t respond, just continues his assault on Taeyong’s mouth.

Taeyong breaks away for a second, needing to breathe and something churning in his gut signaling this doesn’t feel right, despite how long it’s been since he’s been kissed and touched within an inch of his life like this, the ache between his legs misaligned with the pit in his stomach. 

“Johnny,” Taeyong says more again more firmly, pushing the other away as Johnny dives in to continue kissing him. He turns his head, staring out into the night sky, stars twinkling above them. “This is not a good idea,” he whispers softly, almost regretting it at the hurt look in the other man’s eyes when he finds the courage to look back at him.

Johnny straightens but doesn’t release his hold. “Why d’you say that?”

“Because it isn’t,” Taeyong says. “A good idea, that is. I don’t even live here anymore!”

“So?” Johnny says, confusing now lacing his voice.

“So… I don’t think we should do this.” Taeyong trails off.

Johnny waits a moment before asking, “Did I do something? Did I make you feel uncomfortable?”

Taeyong slides a hand up Johnny’s firm chest and wraps it around his neck. “You? No, never. You could never make me feel uncomfortable.” He tugs plays with the hair at the nape of Johnny’s neck. “You’d be better off though finding someone here who you can actually spend time with,” Taeyong says, voice a little melancholy. 

“Maybe I want to spend time with you? Maybe I should just bust you out of that castle and steal you back, huh?” Taeyong laughs softly, pleased at the way the other’s joking lightens the mood a little.

“That’s sweet, Johnny, but I don’t think it’s in the cards for us.” He lets himself pull away completely, brushing a kiss across Johnny’s cheek and turning to head back inside. 

Johnny calls out at him as his hand reaches for the door. 

“Are you happy?”

“Am I… happy?” What a silly question.

“Yeah. Are you happy there?”

“I’m getting used to it, I suppose.”

“That wasn’t what I asked, Taeyong.”

He hesitates because he genuinely doesn’t really think there is a straight answer to Johnny’s question.

“I’m not really sure,” he responds, before cutting the conversation off and heading back inside. His brain hurts, his heart hurts, and worst of all he’s still a little turned on.

But what used to feel so right before suddenly just seemed unthinkable, and Taeyong can’t quite place his finger on exactly why he can’t bring himself to let Johnny kiss him any further like he used to.

* * *

That morning, Taeyong suddenly remembers the little velvet coin bag Jaehyun had given him prior to their trip and pulls it out of his overnight bag. He opens it and counts, eyes widening at just how much is inside.

_ ‘This is so like him. It’s an act of kindness but it’s obscured by a flex of his wealth,’ _Taeyong thinks sullenly. Regardless, he knows his brothers and father will appreciate it, so he leaves it on Doyoung’s bedside table where he knows it’ll be found and well loved. Better yet, he won’t have to make a show of it or explain it at all to them.

But for as irritating as Jaehyun can be at times, he is typically and exceptionally reliable. And true to his word, he shows up the next morning to collect Taeyong and drag him from his old life once again and back into his new world. 

Taeyong is starting to train himself to believe that Jaehyun typically has positive intent in most of his actions, regardless of the often bad perception they have a lot of the time and almost always terrible delivery, but this short trip feels cruel in a way. He spends most of the morning staring out the carriage window, munching quietly on the sugary pastry Jaehyun hands him when they had stepped inside. It doesn’t even taste like much at all when his thoughts are centered around everything that grows further and further in the distance as they make their trek. He feels a little bad at how he handled things with Johnny, kind of regretting not being able to talk about it before he had to leave and the uncertainty of how last night had ended eats at his insides.

Jaehyun doesn’t pester him for conversation, which he appreciates. He doesn’t ask how his night was, doesn’t ask if he enjoyed his time at home, and Taeyong prefers it that way. Jaehyun is always pretty good at reading when not to bother him and when it’s okay to pester, unlike Yuta who just likes to push and push and push. He just sits there next to him, taking up space, unbothered as he reads a book quietly. 

They doze on and off, Taeyong once waking up to find himself nestled in Jaehyun’s armpit, the other with his head tilted back and mouth hanging open. It’s the most undignified he’s probably ever seen Jaehyun, and he memorizes the visual, sears it directly into his brain so he can tease him later on about it.

He doesn’t remember a whole lot of the trip home, and suddenly it’s over and he’s back to his usual routine day in and out. It’s how things typically go- spend time with Jaehyun, get closer to Jaehyun, then as he seemingly makes progress in chipping away at the prince’s icy exterior, they barely interact for days on end afterward. It drives Taeyong crazy, the constant push and pull of their ever increasingly bizarre relationship.

And usually Jaehyun is the one who sets the tone. He is the one to reach out to Taeyong when he wants to, while Taeyong tends to keep his distance until he’s summoned. He’s finding it harder and harder though to keep it that way, mind often trailing to the handsome man when there’s not enough work to keep him mindlessly busy throughout the day.

Like clockwork, Jaehyun slips a note to him under the door about a week after their trip.

_ “Please come see me on the third floor western wing at 7 o’clock tonight. Bring tea. And wear something nice. -Jaehyun” _

Taeyong’s puzzled; everyone else having repeatedly warned him over and over that the area is strictly forbidden with zero explanation as to why. Any time he had tried to ask Sicheng or Irene, they had just given him a look and dismissed it immediately. He can’t deny he’s curious why it’s forbidden, but it sounds like he’s about to find out tonight.

As night falls, Taeyong slips quietly into the third floor western wing he’s not allowed in, but suddenly now being asked to attend to, the teacups on the tray he’s carrying rattling as his hands shake slightly. He hears a door creak and sees Jaehyun walking in his direction, no doubt the noises produced by his nerves tipping the prince off. 

Taeyong’s relieved when Jaehyun takes the tray out of his tired arms and guides him towards a set of french doors leading to an outdoor balcony.

“So, what’s this all about?”

Before Jaehyun can respond, Taeyong freezes in his spot, feet rooted to the ground. He can clearly see beyond the floor to ceiling windows at an elegant dining space, and an older woman sitting outside at a table with stacks of silver dishes and long drinking flutes. He assumes the older woman must be Jaehyun’s mother. The queen. Which also makes sense why this area would be forbidden.

He laughs to break the tension and jokes, “A dinner date and meeting your mother too? You skipped so many bases, Prince Jaehyun!”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes back at him, but decides to play along anyway, which Taeyong decides is more fun. “Yeah, figured she should approve of you before I make you my princess, huh?” 

“Very funny,” Taeyong chuckles and nervously follows behind Jaehyun outside.

“Mother, this is Taeyong. He’s going to spend dinner with us.”

“Oh, what a lovely young boy,” she gives him a feeble smile. She is a woman Taeyong can tell was once extraordinarily beautiful when she was younger, and definitely where Jaehyun gets his looks from. Now, she looks thin and frail, propped up in her chair with her long gray hair flowing in waves down her shoulders. 

Taeyong tentatively takes a seat next to her, careful not to make too much noise as he pulls his chair out. He looks down and sees all the various silverware, realizing he has no idea which is supposed to be used for what purpose and now he feels entirely out of place with how to even eat properly in this woman’s presence. 

She doesn’t really seem bothered by the extra body at the table though, and Taeyong can feel her dark eyes look him up and down with a kind glint behind them.

“And oh, Jaehyunnie, the bracelet,” she points to the bracelet clasped around Taeyong’s wrist. The one that’s never left his body from the second it was gifted to him. He suddenly worries it’s wrong of him to be wearing it, perhaps it belongs to Jaehyun’s mother and she wants it back?

“It looks very nice on you,” she continues and Taeyong lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

She takes his hand in his, turning it over and inspecting the way the jewels glint under the fairy lights that still adorn parts of the castle from the Midsummer party. 

He’s hit with a sudden wave of nausea the second her weathered skin touches his, and decides it absolutely would be his luck to vomit in front of his nation’s queen within minutes of meeting her. He pulls away when Jaehyun hands him a cup of tea, perhaps noticing Taeyong’s shift in mood. 

“Yes, it looks nice,” Jaehyun agrees. 

Taeyong can feel her eyes shift towards him periodically as they begin to eat, wondering what she’s thinking. 

_ Why on earth is my son bringing a servant to dine with us? _

_ Why is he wearing that bracelet? _

_ Why would my son give it to him? _

As much as he wonders why Jaehyun has brought him here, he doesn’t expect the other man to elaborate. Most of what Jaehyun does is mysterious and he never really explains why. 

“Jaehyun, honey,” she begins again, sipping at her teacup with a shaking hand. “Don’t you think he looks so much like them?”

Jaehyun pauses, salad fork mid-air and Taeyong glances over at him, unsure of the look in the other’s eyes. Confusion? Fear? 

“Mother, you’re misunderstanding,” and then Jaehyun quickly changes the topic of conversation back to current political affairs that make Taeyong’s head hurt just trying to understand anything at all about their discussion.

They continue to eat in mostly silence, enjoying dinner and then dessert of some sort of mint green and pink cake Taeyong’s never seen before in his life, but tastes so sweet and fluffy. 

He feels her gaze on him once again, “They were known for having the most wonderful sweets, weren’t they?” Taeyong isn’t entirely sure if she’s asking him or Jaehyun, and has no idea what she’s even talking about anyway. 

“I’m sure you must miss it, don’t you?” She reaches over to hold his hand again, and the immediate feeling of illness hits Taeyong ten times harder than it did earlier. 

He has to leave, has to get out of here, before he embarrasses himself to the point of no return right in front of the queen. He pleads with a quiet, “please excuse me,” before exiting the balcony and heading back inside, in search of the nearest bucket to throw his guts up in. 

He doesn’t make it very far, before he ends up throwing up directly in the middle of the hallway none of the other servants are allowed in to clean anyway. ‘_ I’ve got to find a mop before anyone sees me’ _ Taeyong thinks as he looks down in disgust, before heaving again.

After the second round of his dinner coming right back up, he feels Jaehyun’s body press up against his back and hold his hair out of his face. He whispers a soft, “You okay?” as Taeyong wants to scream and cry in humiliation.

“No, I am not okay! What the fuck, Jaehyun? Did you just poison me?” He practically shouts into the hallway as Jaehyun rubs his back. 

“Of course not! Didn’t you see me eating the same things as you?”

He finally stops heaving, sitting back on his haunches, Jaehyun still rubbing circles into his back soothingly, not even phased by the contents of his dinner now thrown up all over the floor. 

‘You must have been allergic to something,” Jaehyun pulls him shakily up by his armpits. “Or, you’re pregnant,” he smirks.

Taeyong’s increasingly feeling bolder around the other man, so he slaps at his shoulder playfully. “Wouldn’t that be a scandal? Pregnant and out of wedlock?”

Jaehyun laughs back at him, “Wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened around here.” Taeyong looks miserably back at him, feeling so gross and still embarrassed, even if Jaehyun’s playing it off nicely.

“I’ll clean this up,” Jaehyun says softly, giving him a gentle squeeze on his shoulder.

Taeyong watches, absolutely mesmerized as his crown prince is suddenly on his knees, wiping up his vomit from the floor in some sort of weird role reversal. If he had ever known from the moment he’d met Jaehyun while doing laundry, a very rude Jaehyun at that, that this is where they’d currently be, he’d never have believed it.

“C’mon,” Jaehyun gently guides him out of the wing. “You should get to bed.”

“Jaehyun-” Taeyong snaps, “what about your mother?”

“She has several nurses around the clock who help her out so she’s fine.”

They conveniently manage to pass Sicheng on their way back to his shared room, and Sicheng promises Jaehyun he’ll watch over Taeyong that night, that if he begins to feel worse, he’ll take him to the infirmary immediately.

* * *

Taeyong wakes up early the next day in the same sort of way you tend to wake up after a night of drinking, feeling like you’ve been knocked off a horse, dehydrated, and sore.

Sicheng brings him a glass of water and sits on the edge of the bed.

“Since you’re our crown prince’s favorite, I’m sure you can get him to write you a doctor’s note and get out of work if you’re not feeling up to it.”

Taeyong can’t tell by Sicheng’s tone if he’s joking or actually irritated. A part of him has wondered if or when the rest of the staff would begin to resent him as he spends more and more time with Yuta and Jaehyun, the more privileges he seems to accumulate on a nearly weekly basis.

“I’m not his favorite,” Taeyong says knowingly in denial.

“Taeyong, you’re a terrible liar and I think you know it. Jaehyun has never doted on anyone like that, much less a peasant who is beneath him like we are.”

“He’s actually not that bad you know,” Taeyong says in between gulping his water. “He even held my hair while I threw up last night. And then, he cleaned it up right in front of me!”

“You know what, I don’t even want to know that. I’m just saying that I think you should still be careful around him. And stop getting drunk because he makes you nervous!”

“First of all, I wasn’t drunk. I had food poisoning. Secondly, he does not make me nervous!”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Sicheng calls after him as Taeyong walks out on him, beelining straight towards the baths to scrub last night’s filth off of him and start afresh. 

He sinks into the water and lays there, allowing his fingertips to go pruney as his mind drifts back to a certain dark haired man. And he finds, much to his chagrin, just how much he longs to see Jaehyun again, even if he’s still embarrassed about throwing up in front of him last night right onto the floor. Even worse that Jaehyun had cleaned it up right in front of him. 

When he can no longer justify soaking in the water, he gets out and dresses, heading towards the kitchen to his usual duties. 

“Ah, letter for you, Taeyong!” Irene says cheerfully and hands him a sealed envelope. He’s never gotten a letter before. The only thing that even comes close is Jaehyun’s notes he sends on occasion.

Taeyong peels it open and settles into the kitchen table, where Irene pushes a bowl of potatoes his way to peel as soon as he’s done.

_ Taeyong, _

_ You will not believe what has happened and how I am so excited to tell you about this now that you’ve learned to read and write. _

_ A couple of days after you left, this man showed up at our door and delivered an enormous amount of money! Out of NOWHERE! It’s incredible, Yong. We have enough money now to move into a nicer house with our own rooms. I can get an entirely new wardrobe and we can eat whatever we want when we want! _

_ I have no idea how it happened, but I can only assume it has something to do with you and that mean looking prince of yours. He must like you. _

_ Whatever you do, do not make him mad. _

_ Your faithful brother, _

_ Doyoung _

Taeyong stares at the letter as soon as he’s done reading. There must be a mistake. This cannot be real. Jaehyun must have something to do with it, has to. Even Doyoung was suspicious. There’s no other explanation.

But then it doesn’t make any sense? Why should he be here repaying a debt if Jaehyun’s just going to give his family a bunch of money?

The conclusion makes him suddenly furious and he has to- needs to- talk to Jaehyun. As he makes a move to get up, Irene clucks her tongue at him and points to the potatoes still needing to be peeled.

“I know you’re getting used to being friends with Jaehyun and Yuta, but don’t think for a second it excuses you from doing any work today.”

Taeyong sighs and begins to aggressively peel the potatoes, Irene giving him glances here and there almost concerned he might cut his finger off at any second.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” he says back in a monotone voice. 

After assisting with food preparation, temper still simmering hot beneath his skin, Taeyong dips from the kitchen and practically sprints upstairs. 

“_ Jaehyun-! _” Taeyong shouts as he bursts into the prince’s room unannounced, having found the door not locked.

Jaehyun stirs from his closet, brows knitted in irritation. “What the fuck, can’t you knock?”

“No,” Taeyong says angrily, eyes boring laser beams straight through Jaehyun’s head.

“Alright, what’s this about?” Jaehyun waves a hand in his direction.

“This,” and Taeyong stalks up to the other man, shoves the letter into his hand. “What is this?”

Jaehyun gives him a confused look before he lets his eyes wander over the brief letter from Taeyong’s brother.

“Taeyong-”

“Don’t _ Taeyong _ me! What the fuck is this, Jaehyun? Are you giving money to my family while I’m stuck here repaying a debt that apparently doesn’t even matter?”

“I just wanted to help them-”

“So explain why I’m here?”

“I can’t do anything about that! That’s a court order I’m not at liberty to do anything about! I’m only trying to help!”

“Well your help isn’t necessary.”

“So you’d want me to have the money taken back? Is that what you’re saying?”

Taeyong cools. “No. I’m not saying to take it back. I’m saying I don’t understand at all or why I’m still stuck here.”

“It’s my money, not the government’s. I wanted to give it to them.” The way Jaehyun says everything so plainly, so firmly makes Taeyong want to explode even further. 

_ Like, honestly. How dare he? _

“Well don’t. Don’t ever do something like that again. You are _ so _ infuriating at times it’s unbelievable! The way you do stuff like this just to act so high and mighty!”

“I didn’t do it to act high and mighty. I genuinely didn’t think you’d be upset about it either.”

“Well I _ am _.”

“Okay. Then be upset.” Jaehyun goes back into the depths of his closet, the sounds of him shuffling about ringing through Taeyong’s ears. Jaehyun pokes his head out to look directly at Taeyong one last time and says, “You can leave now.”

The brunette glares at him one final time and leaves, careful not to slam the door on his way out, despite really, _ really _ wanting to.

* * *

Taeyong promptly begins to ignore Jaehyun afterward, which isn’t too hard considering Jaehyun hasn’t approached him either or sent any sort of note his way. 

He’s in the middle of straightening up Yuta’s bookshelf for the millionth time that week, when the red haired prince swivels around towards him and says, “You know, I think you should talk to Jaehyun. I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but he’s even more agitated than he normally is and I suspect it has to do with you.”

“Don’t want to,” Taeyong replies.

“Well I don’t really care if you want to or not. He’s driving me crazy and being even more of a dick than usual and this shit has gone on long enough, so I need you to fix him please.”

“We’ll see,” Taeyong muses. As if he’s living his life of indentured servitude in this castle for no reason at all other than the royal family enjoy being sadistic. 

Yuta shoots him a glare as if to say ‘_ we’ll see is not good enough’ _ and turns back to his book. 

Luckily, Yuta drops the subject and goes about begging Taeyong to play chess with him, various other board games, and even offers up snacks. After having lost almost every single round of every single game the redhead threw at him, Taeyong munches on a cracker, while musing “How are you so good at these games?”

“It’s a talent!” 

Taeyong laughs, not even mad at having lost every single time. At this point, it’s actually impressive. Funny even. 

He hears his stomach gurgle and excuses himself, heading towards the bathroom with a sudden onslaught of nausea. 

_ ‘Not again,’ _Taeyong groans.

To make matters worse, he runs straight into the object of his avoidance, while looking down and clutching his stomach on his walk to the toilets. When he looks up, Jaehyun still has the same glare on his face from the last time he saw him, but then sees him immediately soften at Taeyong’s hunched figure.

“Hey,” Jaehyun reaches out and Taeyong flinches, seeing his fingers wander towards his cheek, but instead turn and softly caress his shoulder. “You look pale; are you feeling okay?”

_ ‘Typical. No mention of before. No apology, just sweep it all under the rug like usual.’ _

Taeyong sways a little, leans into the touch. “I feel alright,” he lies. He lets Jaehyun pull him closer towards his chest and place a palm on his forehead, feeling sweaty and hot beneath his touch, unsure of whether or not it’s because he’s feeling ill or because of the other man’s touch. 

“You feel warm too,” Jaehyun hugs him closer. “C’mon, you should get to bed.”

Taeyong nods and pulls away, albeit reluctantly as much as he hates to admit it. Jaehyun’s arms feel nice. 

“Want me to carry you?”

“Absolutely not,” Taeyong snaps back and pulls away completely now. “I’m still mad at you.”

The corners of Jaehyun’s mouth turn up a little at his defiant response and ushers him down the hallway. “You didn’t complain last time I carried you,” Jaehyun teases and Taeyong groans. He clasps his hand in Taeyong’s loosely, pulling him along towards the stairs and not in the direction that Taeyong’s shared room with Sicheng is in. 

“We’re going the wrong way, Jaehyun.”

“No we aren’t.”

He realizes exactly where they are the second Jaehyun pushes the door open to his own room and gently lifts him up by his armpits and tucks him swiftly into bed.

“Jaehyun- what?”

“Stop. You’re tired and you’re getting sick.” He feels Jaehyun card his slender fingers through his hair, cringing a little at how it must feel gross and sweaty to him. “You’ll feel more comfortable here anyway.”

“I’m a little embarrassed how many times you’ve helped me get into bed lately.”

Jaehyun huffs, “Perhaps not in the way you were hoping I’d get you into bed?”

Taeyong laughs and hides his face, feeling his cheeks grow warmer. “Don’t say it like that.” He peeks out from beneath his hands when Jaehyun gives a soft, “okay sure,” back at him.

Taeyong lets his eyes wander across Jaehyun’s looming figure above him. He looks the same as he usually does- handsome, gorgeous. Only instead of his typically distant and cold look in his eyes, this time he seems concerned almost.

“Where will you sleep? Because we are not-”

“I’m going out,” Jaehyun says flatly, interrupting.

Taeyong’s curious about where ‘out’ is or what ‘out’ means, but feels his eyelids droop. His prince is totally right; his bed is definitely more comfortable than Taeyong’s.

“Try to get some rest.”

“Thanks,” he huffs. “But, you know you don’t have to do this? Or anything for me. I’m just some nobody living in your house after all.”

“You’re not.”

Jaehyun fiddles with a spare thread in one of the blankets covering Taeyong’s chest. “You know I didn’t mean to upset you.” He doesn’t elaborate on what he’s talking about, but it’s too obvious anyway. Taeyong hates the way he feels compelled to apologize to this man. Hates the way he knows he’s telling the truth, and that deep down, Taeyong does feel appreciative. 

“I think I always knew that.”

“I was telling the truth when I told you that it isn’t a bribe or anything like that. It isn’t really anything other than I just wanted to help. I didn’t ever think that it would insult or upset you, and I’m sorry that the thought never crossed my mind but my intentions were always good, I promise you.”

Taeyong doesn’t respond, but he finds his hand drifting towards Jaehyun’s where he’s still focused on that loose, little red thread. 

“I’m not used to having other people challenge me I suppose,” Jaehyun hooks their index fingers together, thread now forgotten. “So I don’t think you’re a nobody just living in my house. I think you’re quite interesting and special actually.”

Taeyong’s heart flips and he looks up at Jaehyun through his black lashes. He doesn’t respond because he doesn’t really have anything to say to that, but he feels warmed at Jaehyun’s sudden sweetness. 

“And you may have deduced this, but I don’t exactly have many friends. You’re one of the very few who has managed to put up with me. Even when I don’t really deserve it. Even when you’re working for me entirely against your will.”

Taeyong winds his hand into Jaehyun’s further, like Jaehyun’s beginning to wind his way into his heart and settle there like some kind of parasite. “You know I don’t actually blame you for the way things are? I know it’s not your fault.”

“I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

And then suddenly Taeyong is horrified. 

Horrified watching Jaehyun lean in close to his face, the intent of the action obvious. Taeyong feels like he can’t breathe, like there’s suddenly a hornet’s nest inside his skull.

Jaehyun hesitates for a second, Taeyong feeling his breath warm against his own mouth, staring at Jaehyun’s lips hovering above his as if he’s waiting for consent. Taeyong lets his dark eyes glance back up to the other’s, and suddenly he’s never wanted to be kissed so badly in his life. Without further hesitation, Jaehyun dives in, lips plush and soft against his thinner ones, and he immediately opens his mouth, inviting him in for more, not even caring how gross it is they’re kissing when he’s sick like this. He feels the taller man slide his tongue into his mouth, dominant against his own, his body feeling like it’s sinking into a mattress made of quicksand under Jaehyun’s weight on top of him.

Taeyong pushes gently at the other man’s chest, disconnecting their mouths with a wet smacking noise. “Jaehyun, we should stop.”

“Why?” Jaehyun looks back at him questioning, almost like he’s asking if he did something wrong. Rejecting two guys back to back isn’t something Taeyong’s used to, and he has to laugh a little at having such an amazing problem.

He shrugs slightly while tucking a strand of loose hair behind Jaehyun’s ear. “Because I don’t want to get you sick, that’s why.”

Jaehyun smiles in response, seemingly pleased Taeyong didn’t want to stop because he didn’t like it. “Don’t worry, that won’t happen because I have a _ very _ strong immune system,” Jaehyun gives him a final kiss, soft and innocent against his temple. “Go to bed, Taeyong.”

“You gonna explain why you just kissed me?”

“Because I wanted to?”

“Why?”

“Because you are here. And I wanted to kiss you. So I did,” Jaehyun explains it like it’s the simplest thing he could do in the world. “But please go to sleep; you’ll feel better tomorrow I’m sure.”

“Jaehyun?” Taeyong’s voice hitches as the man above him runs his fingertips across the planes of his collarbone, sending shivers down his spine. 

“Yeah?”

“I think there is something wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re beautiful; no, you’re perfect.”

“Jaehyun,” he flushes, “I’m serious! I’m sick all the time, and I’ve never felt like this before?”

“There is nothing wrong with you,” Jaehyun says again. Definite and firm. Final. No arguing.

He doesn’t need to be told thrice, allowing his eyes to close while Jaehyun pets his hair and whispers one more time where he cannot hear, “there is nothing wrong with you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, self edited so I apologize for any errors. a lot prob seems nonsensical rn, but I promise things will start to be revealed next chapter :) and I hope the jaeyong enthusiasts can finally breathe now ha.


	7. Sei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s bitter and cruel irony to realize it’s really the other way around. He isn’t losing Jaehyun to someone else; Jaehyun may lose Taeyong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /mind the rating for this chapter/ <3

Taeyong’s lips tingle with the memory of Jaehyun’s kiss when he wakes up alone early the next morning. 

It’s hard to believe that it had happened, but it did. He knows it did in the way Jaehyun holds his hand when they’re alone together later that evening as he accompanies him to his room. He knows it in the way he traces his finger against his jaw before leaning in to kiss him for what seems like hours into the night outside of his door.

At first it feels scary to sneak around with the most important person living in the palace. But then after a couple of days, it starts to feel thrilling in the same sort of way it always felt thrilling to sneak around with Johnny behind his family’s back. The stakes are higher now though.

A few days later, Taeyong finds himself watching Jaehyun concentrate on writing a letter at the staff kitchen table. He’s beautiful in the way he’s hunched over, the way his elegant long fingers grip the quill. His face is deep in thought while a lock of black hair hangs blocking his eyes. Taeyong tears his gaze away so he can get back to his current task at hand, which is washing up the dishes from breakfast. He’s about halfway through the current pile when he feels Jaehyun sneak up behind him and grip his waist. Goosebumps form on his skin at the sensation of the other man’s breath at his nape before a gentle kiss replaces it. 

“_Oh, _” Taeyong gasps when the prince picks him up swiftly from behind, turns him around, and sits him on the counter top. 

Jaehyun wastes no time in sliding right in between his legs and holds his head in his hands. “I’m too distracted to finish that letter with you in here.” He’s met with a kiss that still tastes like the coffee he drank that morning. 

“Then go somewhere else, Jae. I - have - to - finish - that,” he says in between being bombarded with kisses.

Jaehyun huffs, “Sure, fine.” He gives Taeyong one last lingering kiss as if to change his mind from doing his job. “I’ll see you tonight?”

Taeyong nods and slides back onto the floor. “I’ll come as soon as I can.”

“Good, because I don’t think I can sleep without you anymore.” 

Truth be told, Taeyong doesn’t think he can sleep much better without Jaehyun either. He’s been sleeping with him at night after he first woke up alone following their initial kiss. The very first time they’d slept side by side, Jaehyun had said it was because he was worried about Taeyong- that he’d just wanted to keep an eye on him. But even as he continued to feel better, Jaehyun would ask him each morning if he’d stay with him. The second, third, fourth, and subsequent times, Taeyong couldn’t deny him, he still doesn’t want to either. But he also doesn’t want to get caught in such a precarious position, and convincing Sicheng the reason for his absence in their room might get harder as time goes on. For now, he’s been telling little white lies- that he’s staying up later in the library reading. He makes sure to get back to their room each morning super early to make it look as though he was there all along and Sicheng hasn’t seemed to notice.

Taeyong turns back to the scent of lavender soap and gets to work.

* * *

Jaehyun’s room is pitch dark and quiet, save for the moment Taeyong knocks into the bedside table and rattles the vase sitting on top of it. The prince’s body stirs from beneath the covers of his bed, before he sits up and looks right at Taeyong in the darkness.

“Oof, sorry I woke you.”

Jaehyun turns to his side, holding up the blanket for Taeyong to slide under next to him. “I was awake.”

“Oh, you looked like you were sleeping,” Taeyong says softly and climbs in, letting the other man pull him into his body. 

“I was trying, but it’s hard without you.”

Taeyong snuggles against him, even though Jaehyun’s body is freezing. He always seems to be freezing. 

This is the part of the day he loves most, where for a brief period of time he can pretend like the new development in their relationship isn’t weird. Truthfully, he has no idea why the crown prince would take any interest in him, platonically or romantically. It’s more in the forefront of his mind in the daytime, where they have to be careful lest someone sees them. He wonders what would happen if they did. 

But at nighttime, when it’s just the two of them wrapped up in bed together, Taeyong can let himself pretend that this is something more. That perhaps, they are just two ordinary people attracted to one another and care about one another, drifting off to sleep in the comfort of the other’s arms.

“Something on your mind?”

“No,” Taeyong lies. He reaches up to card his fingers through Jaehyun’s soft black hair. “Just glad I’m here now.”

“Irene kept you pretty late tonight. Want me to get someone to tell her to back off?”

“No, of course not. Everyone already thinks I get special treatment as is.”

Jaehyun doesn’t acknowledge the obvious amount of favoritism Taeyong’s blessed with; it’s his doing after all. He chooses instead to snake his hands underneath Taeyong’s loose cotton shirt, running his icy fingertips across the smooth flesh, goosebumps following his path. 

“Jaehyun, so cold,” Taeyong whines and pushes his hands out of his shirt. 

“I know, sorry. I’m always cold.” Jaehyun pulls Taeyong flush against his chest, spooning him, and slips his hands around his middle and above the fabric of his clothes. “This okay?”

Taeyong slips his hands into Jaehyun’s, helping warm them. He’s still cold, but it’s not so bad when it’s just his hands. “It’s okay now,” Taeyong says while grinning into the sheets.

They lay like that, nothing but the sounds of their shallow breathing filling the room.

As Taeyong begins to drift, he suddenly hears the larger man behind him sigh into his neck. 

“My dad is really driving me crazy these days.”

There it is. Usually they spend some time chatting about mundane things, and it’s not really out of the ordinary for Jaehyun to want to talk. It is more so out of the ordinary that it’s about the king.

“About what?” He can’t deny he’s curious for the prince to open up to him like this.

“Just… everything. When I’m going to start being more involved in politics, when I’m going to get married, when I’m going to travel more with him to visit our allies. The list goes on.”

Taeyong is quiet for a brief moment, his heart cracking into pieces at the word marriage. Of course his country’s crown prince would be expected to marry- and marry someone of status, wealth, power, and obviously the ability to produce an heir. But what does that make him to Jaehyun? And what does that make whatever it is building between the two of them right now? It’s probably just fun for Jaehyun, even if it feels a little more than just fun to Taeyong. He hates it, doesn’t even want to admit it, but it hurts to think about.

Everything he thinks of to say in response is a struggle to get out. So instead, he just tries to remain neutral. “Sorry. And I know it’s not my place, but, if you ever want to talk about it, I’ll always be here to listen. I hope you’re not too stressed out because of it.”

“Most of the time, I wish I had never been born into this mess at all.”

“Wanna trade?” Taeyong teases. 

“No,” Jaehyun murmurs against his neck. He leaves a kiss that sends shivers down Taeyong’s spine. “Not with you. I wouldn’t subject you to that.”

Taeyong doesn’t continue to press, and Jaehyun doesn’t elaborate further. He just holds him in his arms as they fall asleep together.

* * *

Morning comes too soon when Jaehyun’s alarm rings out. They had agreed to always set it for 5AM, allowing Taeyong enough time to get back to his room and avoid suspicion before he would typically get up in the morning to begin chores. But it’s getting harder and harder for Taeyong to drag himself out of Jaehyun’s warm bed- and subsequently out from under the other man’s body too. Jaehyun always seems a little warmer, more content in the mornings after they’re together, and Taeyong cherishes it silently.

Usually, Taeyong just slips out and shuts the door behind him as quietly as possible, while Jaehyun rolls over and goes back to sleep. This time however, Taeyong feels the other man grip his arm firmly as he begins to peel himself away.

“Don’t go- not today,” Jaehyun grunts from beneath the covers with his eyes still shut. Taeyong turns to look at him, a smile forming on his features at the usually polished and well kept crown prince suffering from a bad case of bed head and smushed face from his pillow.

“I have to; you know I have to though.”

“Not today. I’ll make an excuse for you. Come back to me. Please_ . _”

Who is he to deny such a request from a ridiculously cute Jaehyun so early in the morning? And Taeyong is very obedient if anything, so he settles back into Jaehyun’s body, this time face-to-face. Jaehyun dozes softly as Taeyong allows himself to let the tip of his index finger ghost over his features. It’s really unfair just how handsome he looks, even in the morning. 

Taeyong brushes his knuckles against the back of Jaehyun’s smooth cheek, just because he can when it’s the two of them alone. 

“Just a few more minutes,” the other lets out, still half asleep. 

Taeyong obliges, now fully awake and still a little paranoid that they may be discovered like this if one of them doesn’t stay alert. 

He shifts in his position, lightly bumping against Jaehyun’s groin and realizes the other man is hard. And though totally natural to have that sort of predicament in the morning, it sends Taeyong’s mind reeling at what sort of dreams Jaehyun’s been having in the middle of the night. Or maybe, _ hopefully _, it’s because of him.

He prays Jaehyun doesn’t wake up. Then they can pretend like Jaehyun’s erection isn’t lurking beneath the sheets between them. But it sends an ache between Taeyong’s legs knowing they’ve never gone any further than kissing or cuddling and he can’t help himself but be a little curious. Jaehyun has always cut it off before anything goes too far, otherwise Taeyong would be content to give everything to the other man. He loves it when Jaehyun steals him away during the workday to kiss him alone in a discreet closet, craves for him to push him against the wall and kiss the breath out of him. He’s thought about it- sex, daydreams about it whenever they’re not together, but now the fantasy of intimacy with Jaehyun is right before him. He wants it, but does Jaehyun want it too? Or does he just want someone to sleep with and keep him company?

As if sensing he’s getting too into his head, Jaehyun stirs and immediately cranes his neck to kiss Taeyong with a chaste peck on the lips. 

“Good morning,” Taeyong says when they break apart. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah, I did. You actually make it easy for me to sleep, you know that?”

Taeyong’s heart warms at the compliment. Compliments seem to flow more freely and frequently these days his way, and he’s not too upset about it either.

“I’m glad,” Taeyong laughs against Jaehyun’s mouth and plants a kiss of his own against it. _ But don’t get used to it, for whenever we have to stop, _he wants to add. 

“I just wanna be with you more closely right now,”

“So hold me closer then,” Taeyong dares.

Jaehyun responds by pushing him flat on his back, head against the pillows and crawls on top. His hands slip once again under the hem of Taeyong’s t-shirt, still freezing, though this time he doesn’t protest. He can tell Jaehyun is still just as hard as he was before, and Taeyong tenses, wondering where this is going. Jaehyun grips his waist and looms over him, before dipping down into the crevice of his neck and sucking a mark into his skin.

“Jae- please!” Taeyong pushes lightly at his chest. “Not there where someone can see it!”

Jaehyun’s lips trail lower, into the hollow of his throat. “Here?” His tongue pokes out to lick the skin there, Taeyong swallowing hard. 

“What about here?” He lifts Jaehyun’s chin with one hand, and touches his bottom lip with a singular finger on the other. Jaehyun smiles and leans in, his breath hot against Taeyong’s mouth. 

“Or…,” One of Jaehyun’s hands travels from his waist, further and further, and his fingers curl around the waistband of his sleep pants. “What if I kissed you here?” 

Taeyong feels his brain short circuit, can’t tear his eyes away from the daring look the other man gives him from above. “If I marked you here, nobody would see,” Jaehyun teases, and Taeyong feels his face grow flush and red. Jaehyun loves to tease, and he loves to rile Taeyong up even more. “Has anyone ever kissed you here before?” 

“Y-yeah.”

“Now you’re making me a little jealous.” Jaehyun’s fingers tug slightly, threatening to expose Taeyong at any moment. “I bet they can’t kiss you like I can.”

Taeyong licks his bottom lip and feels brave enough to play along. “Prove it then.”

Before Jaehyun has an opportunity to do just that, there’s a faint knock on the door. He glances towards his alarm clock and slips his fingers away from Taeyong’s waistband. They both stare at the door, not making a move. Perhaps it’s a mistake.

Another knock comes, with a soft female voice accompanying it this time. “I’m so sorry to wake you, Prince Jaehyun, but you’re needed downstairs. Your father is planning to visit later this morning.”

Jaehyun groans and rolls off the bed, hastily getting dressed. As he fastens his belt, he turns back to the boy in his bed. “Sorry, I really can’t ignore this.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure I’ll see you later?”

“I’ll come find you when I can. Don’t wander off.”

“Is that an order?”

“It’s an order and you’d better not disobey it,” Jaehyun returns back to him and kisses him with a touch of petal soft lips to his temple. He loves moments like this, when Jaehyun is playful and sweet, but the moment vanishes just as it begins when the prince slips out the door and into the castle where this affair between them can no longer exist.

* * *

It’s days before he sees Jaehyun again and Taeyong grows worried. He doesn’t dare visit his bedroom without Jaehyun around at all, and nobody’s mentioned him among the servant staff. Taeyong doesn’t proactively bring it up either, because he’s never one to draw attention to his unique relationship with the prince, but he grows anxious as nobody else talks about him either.

Three days of what feels like torture without a semblance of the prince’s existence, Jaehyun turns up out of nowhere as Taeyong busies himself with scrubbing at the marbled floor on the third floor hallway. He doesn’t realize who it is at first, just suddenly that there is a pair of boots in front of him, threatening to mess up his hard work.

When he peers up, it’s Jaehyun looking down at him, neat and orderly as he always is.

“Busy?”

“Does it look like I’m busy?”

Jaehyun laughs, and Taeyong wants to scream, even though he’s overjoyed to see the man. It’s so like him to just disappear for three days and show up again, as if nothing ever happened.

Jaehyun lifts the toe of his boot to step on the bucket of soapy water next to Taeyong. In a swift motion, he kicks it, tipping it over entirely. The water splashes against Taeyong’s lower half, soaking him and flooding the floor.

“Jaehyun, what-”

_ ‘The fuck is he playing at now?’ _

“Why would you do that?!” Taeyong shouts, the sound of his growing anger resonating off the walls of the castle. He doesn’t know if he’s angry about being wet or if it’s because Jaehyun isn’t bothering to explain his absence, doesn’t even seem to care. Maybe it’s both; maybe it’s because regardless of their growing bond, Jaehyun’s still screwing around with him.

“You’ve made a mess, Taeyong.”

“No, _ you _ made a mess-”

“What makes you think you can speak so casually with me like that?”

Taeyong doesn’t respond, just grows increasingly agitated and cold in his wet clothes. His embarrassment grows, the perfect metaphor for their uneven level of power in this game they play. Him, covered in dirty water on the floor while he looks up at neat and pristine Jaehyun. 

“You should get cleaned up,” Jaehyun continues flatly. 

Taeyong looks around at the water everywhere. Even the bottom of Jaehyun’s pants are damp and some of it’s splattered on the wall. He’s surely going to be reamed for this if he can’t at least get the water spots off the paint.

He doesn’t have too much time to dwell as Jaehyun grips his arm and pulls him up level with his body.

“Come with me, then.”

He drags Taeyong wordlessly to his room and shuts the door. And here they are once again in their safe haven. Only Taeyong is a mess and completely confused.

“What was that about?” Taeyong pushes at Jaehyun and yanks his arm out of the other’s grip. “What the hell, Jaehyun?”

“I just needed an excuse to convince you to come spend time with me since you’re always working. And maybe have a little fun with you too. You looked so mad; I couldn’t help myself!”

“I’m always working because that’s my job. I can’t help that your family forces me to do it.” Jaehyun winces at that, and Taeyong is glad his point’s been made. “Anyway, where have you been for three days?”

“I had to deal with some stuff from my dad. I’m sorry; it was unexpected and I couldn’t write to you, but I’m back. I’m sure it worried you, and that’s my fault. But I’ve missed you and I just wanted to spend time with you. And I know you’re just doing what you’re told, but I wish I could convince you to relax a little.”

“It’s not fair to the rest of them.”

Jaehyun presses a soft kiss to his temple and ruffles his hair. “So noble, Taeyong.”

Taeyong keens into the touch. “Now what?” 

“Let’s get out of these.”

Taeyong follows him into the massive closet. It’s filled to the brink with rows and rows of colorful fine clothing. What he wouldn’t give to have this sort of collection to pick from. Does Jaehyun even know how lucky he is; god, Taeyong would be content forever to own a fraction of his wardrobe.

Jaehyun turns to him while he’s busy ogling the rows of velvet blazers. “Here, just something comfortable.” He pulls open a dresser drawer and retrieves two pairs of matching silk pajamas. One light blue, one red. “Which one would you like?”

Taeyong grabs the blue and turns his back, quickly changing. 

“And what happens when someone discovers there’s a mess in the hallway that I was supposed to be cleaning?”

“That’s not your problem anymore. I’ll deal with it.”

Jaehyun guides him to the sitting area of his bedroom and lightly pushes him down into one of the sofas. He plucks a leather bound book off of the nearby bookshelf and deposits it into Taeyong’s hand.

“I want to hear you read it. I know you’ve come a long way.”

Taeyong settles into the soft cushions of the sofa, Jaehyun’s head in his lap. He uses one hand to run his fingers lightly through Jaehyun’s unstyled black hair while the other holds the book over his head. He tries to read, but not really doing a great job, though Jaehyun periodically interjects with words of encouragement. He’s too busy feeling distracted.

Jaehyun sighs against his stomach, fidgeting a little on top of him. It’s intimate but sweet, and feeling Jaehyun’s warm body on his gives him shivers with any slight move of his body.

“This is nice,” Jaehyun brushes the hem of his shirt up slightly and murmurs against his stomach, breath hot and tingly against his skin. “Being here like this with you is nice.” 

Taeyong’s hand freezes against Jaehyun’s dark locks, flicking his eyes down and watching the other press a chaste kiss right above his naval. Jaehyun looks back up at him, eyes questioning if it’s okay to continue and Taeyong gives him an encouraging smile, though his brain is hammering _ touch me touch me touch me. _He snaps the book shut and tosses it to the side.

Taeyong watches with a mixture of anxiety and bliss as Jaehyun continues kissing up his abdomen and crawls on top of him, pushing his back onto the sofa. He bunches Taeyong’s shirt further up, the smaller hissing slightly as his nipples hit the cool air, before he feels Jaehyun mouthing at his right bud wetly, tongue swirling over and over deliciously until it hardens.

They’ve never been this intimate before, but Taeyong’s imagined it many times. Craved it ever since their last morning together.

“You’re heavy,” Taeyong laughs in between deep breaths and paws at Jaehyun’s forearms. “Seriously, Jae, you feel like a bag of rocks.” Jaehyun doesn’t respond, just sucks harder and nips playfully at his chest. 

Taeyong mewls softly at the sensation, having been so long since he’s been vulnerable in a way like this with another human. Jaehyun keeps going, biting softly at the pink bud, before making his way to the other one, lavishing it with the same attention, as Taeyong’s chest heaves up and down. 

As incredible as it feels having his nipples played with, Taeyong stops running his hands through Jaehyun’s hair, and hooks them around his neck, prying at him to come up for air and kiss him. Eyes closed, all he feels are the other man’s soft, plush lips against his thinner ones, hears the soft smacking noises as they dive in over and over again in quick, sloppy kisses.

“Jae-” Taeyong breathes out in between, eyes rolling back to the ceiling as Jaehyun latches his mouth against his pulse, sucking hard and lightly biting the sensitive skin there. 

“Pretty Taeyong, I’ve thought about this a lot.”

“You’ve… thought about me?”

“Every day since I found you. Can’t you tell? Why else would I pursue you like this?”

Taeyong kisses Jaehyun fervently, mind reeling in all the possible ways Jaehyun may have thought about him- why would he even want someone like him?

“But this isn’t enough and I want more.” Jaehyun presses a kiss to his forehead. “Will you give me more?”

Jaehyun snakes a warm hand in between Taeyong’s legs, kneading lazily at the growing bulge there. Taeyong lets out a soft whine at the pressure and Jaehyun takes that as motivation to let his fingertips breach the waistband of his pajama pants.

“Is this okay?” Jaehyun whispers against Taeyong’s ear, before taking the lobe into his mouth and sucking. He holds his hand still against the flat skin of Taeyong’s lower stomach, not making any effort to touch him further until Taeyong lets out another whine, head nodding in consent. Jaehyun doesn’t hesitate, taking the smaller man’s length in his hand and swiping a thumb over the leaking head, making Taeyong jolt in his arms. He goes about the same motion, rubbing over and over, until Taeyong begins to worry he may cum too quickly. He tries instead to focus on pulling Jaehyun’s head back in for a languid kiss. 

Jaehyun removes his hand, gripping Taeyong’s hip and pushing him down into his groin, rubbing against him. Taeyong can feel just how hard Jaehyun is for him underneath him, making his heart swoon knowing he’s the one causing the other man’s arousal. A millisecond later and Taeyong feels Jaehyun squeeze his ass, emitting a soft whimper from his parted lips. Jaehyun kneads at his flesh momentarily before slipping his hand under Taeyong’s waistband again, rubbing against his entrance and letting Taeyong’s own precum slide slick against his hole. 

Taeyong is on the verge of screaming with how badly he wants Jaehyun to just push his finger inside, fully prepared to beg for it when there’s a knock on the door. 

“_Fuck _, not again,” Jaehyun hisses and promptly slides out of Taeyong’s arms, wiping his hand on his pants and pulling on a cardigan to hide his erection. 

“_ What is it? _” Taeyong can hear Jaehyun’s perturbed voice and hushed chattering from his position on the sofa. He sinks down into the cushion, flattening his body as much as possible and hoping to hide from whoever is at the door. The maneuver is useless when he realizes it’s Yuta, who promptly comes barging in and does a double take at a flushed Taeyong in a matching pair of Jaehyun’s pajamas.

Yuta’s eyes widen as he flops onto the chair across from him, leg slung over the armrest. “Well, what’s going on here?” He teases with a raised eyebrow. Jaehyun, having followed behind him, promptly pulls his leg back over and onto the floor. “Ow,” Yuta murmurs.

“Don’t sit on my furniture like that,” he chastises as the red haired prince rolls his eyes. “Taeyong isn’t feeling well, so he’s staying in here for a bit.”

“Seems pointless when he has his own room, no?”

“It’s more comfortable in here for him.”

“I see.”

Yuta gives Taeyong a wink on his way out. Taeyong in turn lets out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding in.

He turns to look at Jaehyun, wide eyed and worried. “Is he going to tell anyone?”

“Probably not. He’ll just use it as leverage against us somehow. Hope you enjoy playing all of his silly board games because you’re probably about to do a lot more of that.” Taeyong smiles, relief flooding him. 

Jaehyun drops low and gives Taeyong a kiss to the corner of his mouth, sweet and innocent despite their activities mere moments ago. “I’m so sorry to do this again, but I have to go. I wanna see you tonight if you’d like?”

Taeyong nods and promises he’ll be there as he watches the prince leave. It’s like deja vu. He blinks and looks around the room, body slowly returning back to earth and not sure if any of that had really happened or not. 

* * *

Taeyong wakes up each and every morning entangled with Jaehyun, a little happier than the previous day. He wonders if this is what it’s like to be in love. Except that would be way too fast and completely crazy, so he tries not to think about that at all. But even as he tries his best to complete his daily tasks, his mind is constantly on everything Jaehyun. They had mutually agreed to keep things secret, and for Taeyong to continue like everything was normal so that nobody would suspect anything or cry foul play if he were to get away with not doing much. It’s scary for Taeyong, terrifying actually, having a small nagging voice in the back of his head damn near constantly that perhaps this will forever remain a secret and wonders how much longer he has to enjoy it. 

At the end of it all, could he really blame Jaehyun if he did feel that way? They don’t talk about it- about what it means for either of them, if anything. But Jaehyun continues to give and Taeyong takes whatever he can in return.

At night, he slips into Jaehyun’s bed and lets him kiss him until they’re both too tired to continue. It never progresses any further than the day Yuta had almost walked in on them, but Taeyong can’t stop thinking about it- how he would have easily just let Jaehyun take him right then and there. He wonders if Jaehyun thinks about it too. 

Sicheng stumbles into the kitchen one morning, late for breakfast and grabs a square of granola off of Taeyong’s plate. 

“Yo, Irene wants us to run a favor for her in town.”

Taeyong slips off the barstool and begins scraping his leftover eggs into the waste bin. “Cool, what are we doing?”

“Just some grocery shopping. You know she usually does it, but she’s taking care of some other stuff so like why not? We never get to do anything outside of here anyway!”

“Yeah, sounds great-” 

Taeyong’s cut off by Jaehyun’s figure looming in the doorway.

“Hey,” Jaehyun smiles at him.

“Hey,” Taeyong returns the smile with his own. Sicheng looks back and forth between the two like he’s watching a tennis match. 

“What are you doing down here?”

“I just, uh,” Jaehyun brushes a loose strand of hair out of his face, “had to ask you something.” His eyes dart to the left, a tell-tale sign of lying.

He pauses to look at Sicheng looking dumbfounded, but chooses to ignore the questioning look on his face as he steps towards the prince. “I have to go run some errands, but I’ll be back later, okay?” He makes sure to whisper quietly. 

“Oh, alright. Well actually, hold on. It’s getting cold and I want you to have something. One sec.” Jaehyun disappears and returns a minute later with a coat in his arms.

“Here, take it. It’s too small for me.”

“That’s sweet of you. Thank you.”

Sicheng and Taeyong head out with an enormous list of vegetables, fruits, baked goods, and meats to pick up. It’s been so long since Taeyong’s been anywhere but the castle or his meager home that he’s slightly overwhelmed by all of the sounds and people. 

His friend bends the paper in half and rips it, giving a piece of the list for Taeyong to take care of.

“As much as it’s great being away for a bit, we probably shouldn’t dawdle or raise any suspicions. Otherwise, Irene will probably never let us do this again any time soon.”

Taeyong agrees and makes his way through the market, examining the various vegetables he’s tasked to pick up. He’s about halfway through the list when his headaches are triggered again, but he ignores it. It’s not so bad this time.

After the last item is obtained and in his shopping bag, he finds the other boy and they quickly pay. 

“Oh, I got you something,” the blonde chirps and pulls a bright red sugar apple from his bag. “She gave me extra for a treat.”

Taeyong’s eyes grow wide at the bright crystalized surface of the candy apple and he doesn’t hesitate to take it. He’s never seen anything like it, but it looks like the most delightful food item he’s ever seen in his life. 

The hard sugar surface cracks as his teeth sink into the flesh of the apple and Taeyong can practically feel his eyes roll to the back of his head at how good it is. 

“Oh my god; this is amazing!”

“I love them too,” Sicheng says and clinks his own apple against Taeyong’s. “Enjoy, friend.”

Taeyong makes it about halfway through his apple before the headaches return, but this time much stronger. 

* * *

Taeyong barely manages to keep it together on the ride back, and thankfully Irene immediately takes pity upon him and dismisses him for the remainder of the day. It’s still early enough, but Taeyong decides to throw caution to the wind and makes a beeline straight for his prince’s bedroom. If Jaehyun is at least willing to just hold him or cuddle him, he thinks that’d probably help him feel a little better.

Jaehyun’s there, hunched over his deck and reading one of his large textbooks. He looks annoyed at the intrusion, but his face softens instantly when he realizes it’s just Taeyong.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to disturb you or anything but I’m just not feeling very well. Can I lay down in your bed?” Taeyong does his best to give the other puppy eyes; he’s always been told his eyes in particular are extremely good at it.

Jaehyun practically jumps up, pulling Taeyong into his arms and presses a palm to his forehead. “You’re really warm. I’m getting worried.”

“It’ll be okay. It’s not as bad as before, but I thought it’d might make me feel better to...” he trails off.

“Let me take care of you. I’ll help.”

“I’m sure I’ll feel better now that I’m here with you.” He lets Jaehyun pet his hair soothingly. 

“I’ll make you a bath. C’mon, it’ll help you unwind. I promise.”

Jaehyun carries him delicately to his private bath, just as big as the one for the servants, only he has this to himself. He sits Taeyong down on the side of the enormous tub and flicks the nozzles on high, Taeyong’s mind growing foggy in the steam. He doesn’t even protest as Jaehyun strips him bare, completely exposing his body. It makes his face burn. 

Jaehyun helps him down into the tub, stretches his legs out fully, and then begins his onslaught of marshmallow scented bubble bath.

“Feeling okay now?”

“A little.”

Jaehyun scoops up a handful of water and splashes it against his back. Taeyong’s still hazy, but it feels good against his skin.

“Want me to get in with you?”

“Please.”

Jaehyun immediately begins peeling his clothes off and stepps into the hot water. He pulls Taeyong into his arms and nuzzles into his neck. Taeyong just lets himself be held and tangles their legs together, the only sounds audible being the splashing water and their breathing. 

“Baby, wash my hair?” Jaehyun asks him sweetly. The pet name melts Taeyong’s heart dearly.

“Aren’t you supposed to be taking care of me?” Taeyong teases, but knows he can’t resist when Jaehyun’s being needy and cute like this. He grabs at one of the bottles labeled shampoo on the ledge and pours a generous amount out, scrubs it through Jaehyun’s scalp while the other man practically purrs beneath him.

Jaehyun returns the favor afterward and the two take turns rubbing soap into the other’s body. Taeyong mentally ranks it as probably the most romantic thing he’s ever participated in, there being nothing sexual about it, but rather just two people taking care of one another. And afterward, he sinks back into Jaehyun’s firm chest and lets himself be held, putty in the other man’s arms, until they’re both pruney and the water grows so cold that they force themselves to get up. Jaehyun wraps him in a fluffy white towel and carries him back to bed, gingerly placing him underneath the covers and tucking his own body into Taeyong’s.

He doesn’t even realize he’s fallen asleep until he wakes up, heart racing and the night sky pitch black outside as Jaehyun snores softly beside him. He looks down and finds he’s completely naked, his last memory from the bath he took earlier. He shifts, preps himself to get up, before he feels his wrist being grabbed from behind.

“What’s wrong?” .

“Woke up. Couldn’t sleep,” Taeyong says quietly in the pitch dark room. 

Jaehyun rubs his arm tenderly and then whispers, “So let’s not sleep?”

It takes Taeyong a minute, not really sure if Jaehyun’s suggesting what his mind thinks he’s suggesting, until he leans down and kisses him. It’s soft at first, but quickly turns into something more passionate, almost desperate in the way that the other man pulls him back in and kisses him.

“I only want this if you feel okay.”

“I feel amazing now actually.”

It’s convenient the way they’re both already naked, Jaehyun grinding his quickly hardening cock directly into Taeyong’s. He’s thick, bigger than Taeyong, and it turns him on thinking about what it’d feel like to have him inside, filling him up, becoming one together. He wants to taste Jaehyun on his tongue, pleasure him with his mouth, but he’s too impatient this time. Next time, perhaps.

Taeyong whimpers from the friction of their members, feeling himself leak, now painfully hard as Jaehyun begins to lick at his nipples. 

“Wait-”

Jaehyun freezes. “Okay.”

Taeyong gathers his senses and leans back on his forearms. He wants it. Badly. But he has to know what Jaehyun’s playing at, because if this is the one and only time he’s ever going to experience this, he wants to savor it.

“Why me?”

Jaehyun doesn’t look him in the eyes and it hurts, dread creeping up inside of him. 

“I’ve always thought you were quite beautiful,” he says, brushing Taeyong’s messy hair away from his eyes. “You have the biggest eyes I’ve ever seen. Gorgeous.”

“That’s it?”

“No, that’s not it.” Jaehyun switches to rub comforting circles on his hip bone. “At first, I felt sorry for you.” 

Taeyong can practically hear his heart shatter, obviously not the answer he was looking for. He doesn’t want a pity fuck.

“It seemed unfair, stealing you away like that. I know how sad it makes you because you can’t be with your family. It was really unfair to you and you never deserved any of this. So at first, I felt sorry for you. I wanted to ignore you, really. Because being around you reminded me so much of how fucked up everything is here. But Yuta kept you around, and I realized I _ couldn’t _ ignore you. I felt like I needed to protect you from everything terrible. Everything is so terrible, Taeyong, god. Most of the time, I don’t do much of anything except stay in here and it’s an awfully boring existence. You changed that for me.”

Taeyong nuzzles into his neck at the sweet words.

“And then, finally, I realized I never should have felt sorry for you. You’re a lot stronger than I’d be in your position.” Jaehyun finishes and it makes Taeyong almost want to cry. He’s never once thought that perhaps Jaehyun has heavy burdens to bear too. 

“I’m just so worried. About everything. And I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t lose me.”

“I’m going to try so hard to make sure you’re right,” Jaehyun murmurs with a kiss to his cheek. 

“You won’t lose me- even if I lose you.” Taeyong’s words are quiet. It’s true; he assumes at some point he will be the one to lose. He will lose whenever Jaehyun is forced to marry, but perhaps Taeyong will still be here for the ride. Perhaps he’ll even have to prepare for it, cook for it, and participate in it. The thought alone feels like dying.

Jaehyun doesn’t comfort him with any further empty promises.

“Let me make love to you.” 

Taeyong kisses him swiftly to grant him permission.

Jaehyun sits up on his haunches, pulling Taeyeong’s legs towards him and pushing them apart. His first instinct is to clench them back together, not wanting to be so raw and exposed, even in the dark.

“Keep them open, baby. I want to see you,” Jaehyun murmurs, against his hip, sucking purple bruises into the skin. He loves hearing the other call him baby, and he lets his legs relax open.

Without warning, he feels Jaehyun’s tongue lapping at his hole, his spit sliding in between his cheeks; all he hears are the sounds of Jaehyun’s lips smacking against his entrance. It’s so good like this, better than it’s ever been, but Taeyong clasps a hand over his mouth knowing that it’d be terrible to wake someone to come investigate, finding their crown prince pleasuring his servant so sinfully. 

Jaehyun spits on his hole, rubs his finger around the rim as his mouth takes a second to suckle on the head of his cock. 

“_Jaehyun! _” Taeyong tries to clench his legs together at the sheer assault of pleasure on his body, but Jaehyun holds him firmly in place.

“Had enough?” Jaehyun comes up briefly for air, but doesn’t give Taeyong an opportunity to respond to the question. Jaehyun runs his tongue over him one final time, a long and wet stripe right from his hole, right up to the tip of his cock. 

He glances down for a second, seeing his painfully erect member flush against his stomach, Jaehyun’s eyes right on his face. 

“_Please, _” he begs softly.

“Please what?” Jaehyun reaches above him, fiddling around in the bedside table drawer before he returns with a tiny bottle of lubrication. 

Taeyong’s about to answer, but finds himself letting out a loud moan instead as Jaehyun inserts a wet, slender finger inside of him. 

“I want you to feel so good, Taeyong.”

Taeyong whimpers _ I do, I do, I do _ , reaches for Jaehyun’s neck to slip his tongue inside the other man’s mouth. “ _ I want more. _”

Jaehyun pulls out and pushes back in with two fingers, gliding them in and out of Taeyong’s tight hole rapidly. “How many?”

Taeyeong whines and Jaehyun leans in to lightly graze his teeth across his neck. When he doesn’t answer, he receives a reward of three fingers, Taeyong beginning to feel like he’s on fire with the sensation of the other man inside of him. It’s been so long since he’d last fooled around with Johnny like this, but his body seems to fall right back into the mechanics of it all as Jaehyun works him open.

Jaehyun senses Taeyong’s growing discomfort at the stretch, shimmying down his body and taking his length into his mouth while his fingers continue to pleasure him with a simple warm up of what’s to come. Taeyong practically convulces, never once in his life having had a man eat him out and go down on him with this level of enthusiasm. 

When he’s had enough, he pushes Jaehyun’s head away, a soft pop audible as his fingers too slide out. 

“I’m ready for you.”

“Then turn around for me,” Jaehyun hisses into his ear. He complies immediately, flipping over on his hands and knees and assumes this is the way Jaehyun likes to fuck. His breath is ragged against the bed sheets until suddenly he lets out a yelp when Jaehyun begins to breach his entrance. He’s thick, so thick, as he inches in slowly. Every day, Jaehyun’s more docile and sweet natured side begins to emerge and surprise him. 

Jaehyun grips at his ass, kneads the skin there and begins to gently thrust into Taeyong’s tight body. After he senses the smaller is accustomed to his length, he pulls Taeyong up, one palm flat against Taeyong’s stomach, the other holding his leg to balance.

“You feel so fucking good. _ Fuck, _ you feel better than I imagined.”

“Jae- please, please.”

“You want it harder, baby?”

“Yes!” Taeyong practically shouts as Jaehyun rams into him with relentless force. It’s been so long and Jaehyun’s fucking him so well that he feels like he could cum untouched at this rate. 

He melts against the larger man at his back, offers his body up fully and lets him push and push further inside him. He feels Jaehyuns’ tongue on his neck, but he’s too delirious to open his eyes and turn around or even make a noise beyond harsh panting.

“Tell me when,” Jaehyun pants against his ear. “Tell me when you’re close.” He delivers a particularly hard pounding, causing Taeyong’s vision to darken in immeasurable pleasure. 

“Just a little more. A little harder, _ please _, keep going!” Taeyong begs and tilts his head back to catch Jaehyun’s mouth in a sloppy kiss.

Jaehyun suddenly pulls completely out and Taeyong almost cries at feeling so pathetically empty, tries to rub his ass against Jaehyun’s cock to put it back inside. Jaehyun grips his waist and flips him over, pushes back into him without hesitation and goes right back to grinding against the bundle of nerves that is threatening to push him over the edge.

“I wanna see your pretty face.” 

Taeyong looks down to see where their bodies are connected. The erotic sight of Jaehyun’s cock pistoning in and out of him, glistening and wet while he’s so lost in sexual gratification is enough to spark his orgasm. His body tremors in the aftershocks, white cum spurting onto his stomach and Jaehyun not missing a beat, chasing his own end.

He whines at the overstimulation and Jaehyun peppers his chest with light pecks. “Just a little longer, baby. You’re so beautiful; _ you’re so perfect; you’re so perfect for me _.”

Taeyong nods and pulls Jaehyun’s head in for another kiss and presses his body into the other’s as close as possible, wanting- needing to solidify this memory in his brain. He whispers against Jaehyun’s mouth, “_ Cum inside me, _” as Jaehyun’s thrusting becomes more irregular and desperate. A few more rough motions and Jaehyun’s cumming, cock pulsing hard inside of him as he’s filled up with the prince’s release.

Jaehyun kisses him again slowly as he pulls himself out of the other’s body carefully, groaning into Taeyong’s mouth as the cool air hits his softening dick. Taeyong holds him in place, not wanting the moment to end.

As Jaehyun stares into his eyes, Taeyong wonders what’s going on in his mind. 

“I feel so honored you let me do that to you.”

Taeyong laughs and swats at his chest. He lets himself be pulled down into Jaehyun’s arms and cradled. They bask in the afterglow of sex, admittedly Taeyong’s most favorite part.

He feels Jaehyun run an index finger against the bridge of his nose. The touch is feather soft. 

“Pretty.”

“You keep saying that, but I’m not.”

“Yeah, you’re right. You’re beautiful. You don’t even look real.”

“Stop lying!”

“I’m definitely not lying.” Even if he isn’t, Taeyong won’t believe it. He’s never found himself to be anything more than plain.

Taeyong quiets him with a gentle lover’s kiss. “Let’s sleep, my prince.”

* * *

“_Oh my god _, not again!”

Taeyong barely registers what happens next. He only remembers his legs suddenly giving out and Jaehyun rushing to scoop him up before everything goes black.

He fades in and out from beneath the covers of Jaehyun’s bed where they had just made love the night before.

“Yuta, _ please _.”

“What do you expect me to do about it?”

“You have to help him- you would know more than anyone! He usually is okay after sleeping, but now he’s worse than ever before!”

“You know I don’t know anything about how to help him! If I did, I would have fixed this long ago!” 

Taeyong listens to them bicker back and forth, but none of it makes any sense.

“You can’t at least try to do something?”

“The fuck am I supposed to do? Mind fuck him? That won’t help.”

“I didn’t know he’d be like this if- I never would have-”

“Well you’ve always been a selfish fuck, haven’t you?” Yuta pauses momentarily. “The only advice I can give you would be to figure out a way to get him there. Obviously nobody here is going to be able to treat him and I don’t know for sure how severe it is. I only suffered mild headaches, but this can happen. Especially to someone like him who’s only awakening to it because he’s around remnants of it living here.”

“Jaehyun?” Taeyong manages to stretch his arms a little and crack open his eyes.

Jaehyun’s head whips around in his direction. “Taeyong-”

“What’s going on? I’m so confused. The last thing I remember is...” he looks towards Yuta, not wanting to go into detail about it. “What time is it? Why is he here?”

“Taeyong, I didn’t realize you were awake,” Jaehyun’s voice is laced with panic and it terrifies him. 

_ ‘What is going on?’ _

“That’s not what I asked. What’s happening? What are you talking to Yuta about? And I feel horrible, worse than I did yesterday.”

Yuta looks between the two, before glaring fully at Jaehyun. “Jae, I think you need to tell him.”

“Tell me _ what! _”

“This isn’t how I wanted to tell him!”

“Well, looks like you don’t have a choice anymore if you intend to be so concerned about his health!”

“Leave, Yuta.” Jaehyun’s voice now is firm, almost terrifying, as he commands Yuta to get out. Taeyong’s never heard that tone before and it makes him a little frightened. 

“Why? I think I should be here actually.”

“No. Leave. Now.”

Jaehyun watches Yuta pick himself up and head towards the door. He pauses halfway outside and turns back, before ultimately disappearing for good.

“Taeyong,” Jaehyun starts. His voice returns to the more gentle tone he’s taken with Taeyong in the past several weeks.

“Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun sighs and rubs a hand across his face. He looks worn out. Dark circles cast a shadow on his face.

“Please, _ please, _ I am _ begging _ you to not freak out.”

“You’re scaring me with how evasive you’re being. What the fuck is going on!?”

“I’m going to tell you something that you probably won’t believe.”

“Okay.” Taeyong closes his eyes again, prepared to just listen. It hurts his head to open his eyes in the light of the day.

“You’re Yuta’s cousin.”

“I’m _ what? _”

“Yuta’s cousin.”

“How the fuck is that possible?” His eyes are open again in an instant, searching Jaehyun’s face for some sort of clue as to how that could be true. But Jaehyun doesn’t appear to be joking; there is no punchline this time.

“Stop interrupting. Neither of you are from this continent, but he mostly grew up there, while you grew up here. You’re Yuta’s cousin.”

“You already said that!”

“You were taken as a baby and given to the people who raised you. You just don’t remember it _ because _ you were a baby.”

Taeyong blinks. There’s no possible way. “You’re absolutely crazy and I want you to stop screwing with me.”

“I’m not finished. You’re sick, somehow. You’re sick in a way that doesn’t happen to people here and I need to get you help. That’s why I was asking Yuta.”

“And he’s known all along?”

“He’s known all along.”

“Why would you keep that secret from me?” He has so many questions that this new information brings to the forefront of his mind. How could it be coincidence he’s here? Was all of this done on purpose?_ Why? _

“Because obviously I didn’t want to scare you!” Jaehyun takes his hand, but Taeyong snatches it away. 

“So you’re telling me my entire life is a lie then?”

“No, of course not. Your parents were- are,” Jaehyun corrects himself, “Still your parents. They still raised you and made you into the person you are today. That doesn’t change anything.”

“So where are Yuta and I from then?”

Jaehyun swallows and Taeyong’s eyes watch the movement of his Adam's apple. It’s like he’s scared to say what’s next, scared to watch this fragile relationship of theirs crumble into pieces in a matter of minutes.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

Taeyong’s vision goes dark again.

* * *

Taeyong comes to in a vision of starbursts. 

“You thought you could hide him from me in plain sight the entire time? Really? You think I didn’t realize who he was the second I saw him at your stupid little party? I can _ feel _ his distress, Jaehyun.” His vision is still blurry, but his hearing is fine. It’s a woman who’s speaking.

Taeyong groans, head throbbing and his limbs feeling as though they’re made of rocks.

“He’s awake,” the woman’s voice echoes.

He feels a delicate hand on his forearm, stroking it up and down soothingly.

“You don’t need to worry anymore, Taeyong. I’m here.”

He peers over to his side, vision still hazy, and sees a young woman. She looks familiar somehow, but his brain can’t register how or from where.

His eyes wander to the room in front of him, which Taeyong begins to realize is the throne room. He shivers and realizes he’s wrapped in Jaehyun’s coat from earlier too.

“It wasn’t enough to try to hide him, but to make our prince, my brother, your servant? It’s really distasteful, but I’d expect nothing less out of you and your kind.” 

_ ‘Brother?’ _

It’s Jaehyun she’s speaking to, on his knees at the floor, wrists tied behind him and flanked by two men. Taeyong doesn’t understand, still growing ever confused. He looks down and realizes he’s been placed sitting upright in the throne room, directly in the king's chair as if to mock Jaehyun bowing at his feet from the floor- their ranking switched.

He swallows, throat dry and raspy. “What’s going on?” He doesn’t even know who he’s asking- her, Jaehyun? 

“Jaehyun, care to tell him the truth now?”

Taeyong’s vision grows clearer as he stares down at Jaehyun’s figure, which for the first time since he’s ever known him looks small and pathetic in his hunched stature.

“I- I can’t.”

The woman laughs beside him. “Of course you can’t. You’re a coward.”

She turns to Taeyong and cradles his face. “Clearly, he only told you the abridged version, the nice version. I’m sure there were a lot of important details left out. Would you like to hear them, baby brother?”

He tears his gaze away from Jaehyun who wiggles in his restraints and turns towards her. Up close and crystal clear, he recognizes her. The woman from the party who he’d actually been_ jealous _ of. 

She is his sister?

_ ‘What was her name what was her name what was her name?’ _

“Yes.”

She begins, running her fingers through his brown hair. “I was six when you were born. We only had you for about two weeks before his father,” she points back to Jaehyun on the floor, “took you. You vanished out of thin air and nobody knew where to find you. Our mother was so distraught over losing you to the point she wound up grieving herself to death.”

Taeyong feels like he can’t breathe. This is too much; too much of an information overload about a life he’s never lived nor knew existed. He thinks how nice it is to know that he’s motherless in either scenario.

“Our people looked everywhere for you. We never stopped looking for you. I never forgot about you.”

Taeyong isn’t sure how to react- to cry, to scream, to rage. He feels like his insides are being ripped apart between learning all of this and realizing Jaehyun’s known all along. Just who had he so stupidly given his heart up to?

“Jaehyun, you knew didn’t you?” Taeyong says, voice barely audible. “You knew all of this.”

“I couldn’t tell you; there’s so much more-”

“He’s lying to you,” the woman cuts him off harshly, voice laced with viciousness. 

Jaehyun thrashes, hands still tied. One of the men to his side shoves him right back down to the floor. 

“Taeyong, I’m not lying to you!” He sounds almost panicked, desperate even. “I may have hidden things from you, but believe me, it was for a reason. I would never purposefully deceive you!”

“I suppose he won’t explain to you how he’s the one making you sicker? He knows it too, Taeyong.”

“It’s not that! Taeyong, you have to believe me!”

Taeyong’s mind is reeling. His last memories are of Jaehyun making love to him, and he was so, _ so happy _. But now, he doesn’t know how he could possibly trust him because it makes sense. Every time he’s grown ill or passed out, it had to do with time spent in the prince’s company.

He’s sad, but what comes next comes out in pure anger. “Why should I believe you? You’ve known secrets about me from the second I met you! You made me believe lies about myself and now you’re telling me that my entire reality is a falsehood! You’ve seen me pass out and grow weaker whenever I’m around you! Why? Why would you hurt me like that?”

“Taeyong-”

“Is that why you told me you were afraid to lose me? You knew I was dying and you didn’t do anything to stop it?” All this time, Taeyong had assumed he would be the one who would lose Jaehyun. It’s bitter and cruel irony to realize it’s really the other way around. He isn’t losing Jaehyun to someone else; Jaehyun may lose Taeyong in death or at the very least, in a web of his own lies and secrecy.

“No, Taeyong! I lo-”

“You’ve lied to me! So many times! Every conversation we have ever had has been nothing but a giant lie!” Taeyong feels like a volcano with so many emotions simmering and threatening to spill over. He’s grown to care for Jaehyun, but all he feels in this moment is rage.

“Taeyong, she is the one lying to you-”

“Shutup!” He erupts. 

The room falls silent for what feels like an eternity, and Taeyong feels as though he can still hear his shouting ringing in his ears. It’s as though none of this is real. It has to be a horrible dream.

His _ sister _ breaks the silence. She turns his head towards her and asks, “Would you like to go home?”

Taeyong thinks sullenly, which one?

He looks at Jaehyun for what feels like may be the last time.

“_Please _ , I am begging you. Don’t listen to her; she is _ using you _. The second you go with her, she won’t be so kind to you anymore.”

“It’s funny he says that considering he’s been doing nothing but using you, sucking you dry. They crave us even though they shun us, think we are _ monsters _. They always try to resist, but it’s futile. He probably touched you one time and couldn’t get enough. I promise you, he doesn’t actually care, he’s just an addict looking for his next hit. And if he seems like he cares, it is only because he feels guilty for knowingly hurting you.”

“God, fuck you, Jessica! Stop saying shit like that to him!”

_ Jessica. _

“What? The truth? Hit him,” she commands as one of the brutes delivers a kick to Jaehyun’s side. 

As angry as he is, Taeyong can’t deny that It hurts to see Jaehyun in pain like that. He wants to run to him and hold him. But it also hurts to have been lied to by everyone and to have your very reality collapse around you. 

Taeyong swallows. His throat is dry and everything hurts.

Jessica turns her attention back to Taeyong. “You belong with us again. You deserve your real life. And we’ll take care of you, instead of letting you fall ill- I promise. You’ll be so loved and protected.” She holds her hand out to him.

“I-”

Jessica looks at him intensely. He can’t deny he’s curious but also doesn’t really want to go with her alone. He can’t trust her either just yet.

“It’ll be okay.” She’s suddenly so soft spoken and welcoming. 

He thinks about how deeply he would miss everyone if he’d never get to go back home- his true home.

Jessica sighs, patience running thin. “To be honest, you don’t really have much of a choice. Stay here and you’ll wither away to nothing after a couple of months. Death is imminent.”

“_Taeyong, you need to run, NOW! _” Jaehyun yells as another kick is delivered to his ribs. Taeyong feels sick; he can hear the bone crunch. 

Something in him tells him to listen to Jaehyun, that despite everything, maybe he’s right. Taeyong bolts towards the door, adrenaline surging through his veins and pushing him forward despite still feeling weak. He can hear what appears to be twenty different footsteps hounding him at his feet as he races out the back and across the lawn. It’s too clear out here, not enough cover to hide within.

He eyes the forest of trees in the distance and wills his body to go faster,_ faster, _and he’s almost there -

Until everything goes black.

He wakes up in a bed in an unfamiliar room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/mangoanjou)  
[twitter](https://twitter.com/pinkmango329)  
@pinkmango329 - I am gonna start using it to post updates if anyone wants to be friends or just talk about nct stuff!


End file.
